


Lovable Losers

by SosaLola



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4579563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SosaLola/pseuds/SosaLola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Begins from the episode Hush.  Two losers stuck in one basement. (This can be a rewrite of S4. What if Xander was the gay Scooby instead of Willow.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Losers Shag

  
  
   
  
  


  
**Lovable Losers.**

**Chapter One: When Losers Shag**   


  
  
  
  
If Xander could growl, he would've; the point was that he couldn't. But at least he could grumble. A grumble was a show of annoyance and always helped to block the irritating sounds.  _Grumble. Grumble_. It wasn't working! The sound was  _awfully_  loud. Good thing he had his eyes closed. Seeing a British smirk would really send him over the edge.   
  
Gulp. Gulp.   
  
He could handle it.  
  
Gulp. Gulp.   
  
He  _freaking_  could handle it.   
  
Burp.   
  
Oh, no, he couldn't.  
  
"Spike! Can't you drink your goddamned blood silently?"  
  
"But how will that get on your nerves?" He sounded so innocent.   
  
Xander's eyes snapped open and he glared at Spike from his place on the couch. "Bad enough you sent Anya away, now you gotta ruin my  _Friends_  time, too?"  
  
"I did apologize about ruining your two seconds of pleasure, didn't I?" Spike, with his blood mustache, replied, giving him an offended look.  
  
"No, you didn't!" Xander retorted. Blink. "Hey, it's not two seconds. It never was in the first place!"  
  
"Sure, mate." Spike carried on gulping from his cup, which never seemed to get empty.  
  
Xander gave an annoyed groan, looking back at the TV. Chandler came out of his room, pissed. Apparently, Joey had almost killed him with an electronic drill. Joey acted as if nothing happened and that frustrated Chandler more. Normally, Xander would have rooted for Joey, but right now he gave all his sympathy to Chandler.  
  
Why he had agreed to have Spike as a houseguest was beyond him. Giles could be a selfish bastard sometimes, dumping Spike on Xander so  _he_  could have sex. What if Xander wanted to have sex? In fact, ever since Halloween, he'd had sex with Anya every single night... except for tonight.  _Damn you, Giles!_    
  
Suddenly, Spike jumped up and plopped next to him on his foldout couch. His arms were folded behind his head and his legs were propped up on the table. "You're watching this? Change the channel.  _Passions_  is on soon."  
  
Xander's eyes were beaming fire balls at Spike's legs. His burning eyes turned to the smug looking idiot. "What do you think you're doing?"  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Watching telly?"  
  
"Get your feet off the table!" Xander yelled, shoving Spike's legs away. He looked back at the TV. The laughing audience irritated him even more. "You know what? I'm done watching TV. Get up!" He literally pushed Spike off of the couch and started pulling it out to a bed. He should get a real couch in the future.  
  
"It's all right, I need my beauty sleep, too," Spike said, stretching. "A night in this trash heap sure does a vampire all in," he mumbled.  
  
After Xander was done with the bed, Spike threw himself fully in the middle and pulled the blankets to cover his body.  
  
"What? No, no, no, no, get up!"   
  
Spike looked at him, confused. "What?"  
  
"You're not seriously considering sleeping in my bed."   
  
"You're not gonna make me sleep on the floor, are you?"  
  
"Why? Vamps are allergic to the floor?"  
  
"No," Spike replied in ridicule. Then he pouted. "It's cold."  
  
"Spike,  _you're_  cold." Xander glanced at his recliner chair, and without a thought, he decided, "You'll be sleeping on the chair."  
  
"What? C'mon! It's not like I can bite you."  
  
Xander regarded him with narrowed eyes. Sure, Spike couldn't hurt him. That didn't mean he wouldn't do something. 'Pranks' was the word that crossed his mind. Oh, no, Xander was not having any of that. He walked to his closet, searching for Anya's ropes. Feeling blood rushing to his cheeks when he found them, he remembered why they were here. Anya had promised to tie him up tonight and act all Mistress-y.  _Damn you, Giles!_  
  
He turned around and made sure the ropes were visible to Spike, who grunted, "Oh, you're bloody kiddin' me!"  
  
"On the chair," Xander ordered, picturing himself in a circus.  
  
Spike looked like he wanted to protest but wisely shut his stupid mouth and sat on the chair. Xander tied him up and mentally smirked at Spike's grumbles. At last, the roles were reversed.  
  
Once he was finished, Xander turned off the lights. "Don't see why I have to be tied up," he heard Spike remark from behind him.  
  
"It's just while I'm sleeping."   
  
Walking towards his bed, he heard Spike sneer from behind him, "Like I'd bite you anyway."  
  
Xander turned around to glare at him. "Oh, you would."   
  
"Not bloody likely."  
  
Turning off the lamp on the other side table, Xander replied, "I'm very bitable, pal." He sank down on the mattress. "I'm moist and delicious." He closed his eyes, feeling sleep creeping on him.   
  
He heard a scoff. "Oh, yeah, you're a nummy treat."  
  
Pointing a decisive finger at Spike, Xander said, "And don't you forget it."  
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Spike checked Xander's heartbeats; they were regular and even. The boy was finally asleep. With a dark smile, Spike tore off the ropes that tied him to the chair with ease. He stood before Xander and smirked down at him.  _Well, well, Twit; think you could humiliate Spike like that without paying?_  Boy should have known better than that.   
  
Mimicking Anya's high pitched voice earlier to annoy Xander wasn't enough. Spike was going to make him pay well and proper. He walked around the basement, looking for something useful. He started searching the drawers in Xander's closet, and his eyebrow rose when he found a bunch of similar boxers. There must have been a dozen for half price at a cheap market that day.  
  
Snapping the drawer shut, he looked around until his eyes caught a black marker on the desk where the mechanic tools were. He sighed. It wasn't that much of a revenge play, but it would do, for now. Gazing at the marker, he grinned when it turned out to be a permanent one.  
  
He made his way onto the bed and rolled Xander over until he was lying on his back. Spike grimaced at the drool dripping from Xander's mouth.  _Very moist and delicious indeed._    
  
He frowned at that last thought. Just a minute before he was thinking of drawing a moustache or writing 'Small Willy' on the boy's forehead, however, now…  
  
He moved his hand to Xander's boxers until his hand got a hold on his chopper. He gave a gentle squeeze. The sleeping boy's breath hitched but he didn’t wake up. Spike squeezed again. Xander's brows furrowed but nothing else happened. A third squeeze and, uh huh, here it was. Xander moaned as his penis stirred.  
  
Spike smirked and continued the process. Little Xander seemed to like the attention, there was an erection. How easy it was to make teenage boys with rushing hormones hard. Now playing with sleeping teenagers was fun, why hadn't he tried it before? Xander's heartbeat quickened. He would wake up soon apparently.  
  
A small groan escaped Xander's mouth, and an eyelid half opened, staring confused at the ceiling. "Wha…" He opened another eye and both sleepy eyes fell on Spike. "Spi…"  
  
Spike just smirked and squeezed harshly. Xander gasped. Spike was amused. The squeeze was a little painful but the chip hadn't fried his head like it should’ve. Harris must be enjoying the little force.   
  
"Wha… what are you doing?" the frantic voice exclaimed.   
  
"I'm bored."  
  
"Bored?! Oooooh…"   
  
Spike stuck his tongue to the back of his teeth and leering. "You know, maybe I should take these boxers off, don't want to get them messy."  
  
Now Xander pushed him off the bed, and stood in all his loser glory, fixing his dopey eyes on him. However, Spike's attention was not on Xander's sodding eyes. He looked smug as he laughed, "I knew I was good, but never thought you'd give in this fast."  
  
Xander blinked, and looked down at the wet, sticky spot in his boxers. "Shit!" he exclaimed, rushing to the bathroom. Spike lost himself, breaking into gales of laughter, before getting up and grabbing a pair of boxers from Xander's drawer. He stood by the door and yelled, "Hey, Xander, you needn't worry. All your boxers look the same. Demon girl won't know a bit."  
  
"Screw you, Spike!"   
  
"Seems more like me screwing you, mate."  
  
A heavy object hit the door making Spike withdraw, laughing. Two minutes later, Spike hadn't stopped laughing yet, and Xander opened the door slightly so that only his hand appeared. "Give me the boxers, and they better not have any gum stuck in them."  
  
Spike cursed himself for not thinking of that, and he cursed himself more for handing the boxers to Xander. He should have just lain in bed, fixing smug eyes on the bathroom door until Xander came out with his flabby American arse jiggling as he went to get more boxers. The red blush would have been a plus.   
  
He grumbled at his slow thinking, walking to Xander's bed and lying there. He was about to sleep when Xander's awful shriek startled him, "Get off my bed!"  
  
"I was about to sleep, you twat," The minute he growled it, Xander had him smacked onto the floor for the fifth or sixth time since he'd stepped foot inside this rat's hole.  
  
"I'm tying you to the chair again! How you got yourself free is…"  
  
"I'm a vampire, lack-brain." Spike rubbed his throbbing head, which pitifully wasn't throbbing because of the chip. He glared at Xander's blinking dumb eyes. How disgraceful that he had lost his battles in the past to people like this. "Are you completely dense? Vampires are strong. They can just rip the sodding ropes off."  
  
"I know!" Xander yelled back, obviously lying. "But I'm tying you up anyway."  
  
"And I'm ripping 'em off minute you sleep."   
  
"I don't care!"  
  
Spike glared as Xander literally dragged him by the collar like a dog to the chair, and he was tied up again. Watching the boy walking to his bed, Spike smiled.  
  
"Hey, Xander."  
  
Xander turned around once he settled in bed and groaned. Spike waved untied hands at him.   
  
"Spike, please, I have work tomorrow."  
  
"Love that frustrated 'please', mate. Care to repeat it again?"  
  
"Damn it, Spike," Xander yelled, sitting up; his unruly hair sticking up in different places, making him look like more of an idiot than he already was. "I really need to get some sleep!"  
  
"Me too!" Spike yelled. "I can't sleep sitting up."  
  
"Yes, you can. I saw you at Giles'; you slept like a dead guy with an open mouth. I even threw popcorn, trying to score one into your mouth." Xander grimaced. "No success."  
  
"That was you," Spike hissed dangerously. He remembered waking up surrounded by greasy popcorn, the smell stunk for days. Giles had told him he was exaggerating, but what did Rupert know? He wasn't a vampire with a dog-like, sensitive nose.   
  
Xander sighed. "So what? You'll keep annoying me?"  
  
“Unless you let me sleep in that double bed."  
  
"No freakin' chance."  
  
"Then I won't cooperate." With that said, Spike ripped the ropes tying his legs.  
  
Xander stared levelly at him. Spike returned that stare with a more dangerous one. Xander lost the staring match when his beady eyes looked down, defeated. "I really need to sleep, Spike."  
  
"Just let me sleep in that bed."  
  
Xander's eyes narrowed at him. "I don't trust you."  
  
"That’s very wise of you."   
  
With a grunt, Xander pulled the sheets over, creating an empty place on the other side. "C'mere, Spike!"   
  
Spike bounced, making sure his knee smacked Xander's face as he jumped into the bed. It was worth the little zing in his head. He smirked at Xander's nasty look and then watched him warily settle in bed, eyes still on Spike. "Don't try any of your twisted games," he ordered.  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow. "What twisted games?"  
  
"You know, like you just did before."  
  
"You liked that," Spike leered.   
  
"Stop it," Xander hissed, uncomfortable. "And I-I didn't." A deep blush filled his cheeks.  
  
"You don't have to hide it, mate. You lost it before I even began the fun part."  
  
"I'm not gay."  
  
"No one said you are."  
  
"I was… I was just pissed I didn't get any with Anya," Xander justified, but the confusion reeking from him was so clear, and Spike gave a wolfish leer, pretty much wanting Xander to spot it.  
  
Xander did, and automatically pulled the covers up to hide his body. "What about you?" he almost spat. "You're gay."  
  
"I'm bored."  
  
"And jerking people off is what you do for fun?" Xander squeaked.   
  
"No, I kill people for fun," Spike corrected. "Now that I can't do that, I'm going for the second best."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"A good shag," Spike replied, grimacing as his eyes looked Xander's body over. "Though not sure I'd qualify you as one."  
  
"Hey," Xander yelled offended. "I'm a good shag, I have Anya to prove it."  
  
"Right. An ex-demon who hadn't been shagged for centuries and now will accept any offer."  
  
"Oh, yeah?" Xander glared aggravated, trying to find a witty comeback but obviously couldn't. "I gotta sleep." He turned around, taking all the covers with him. Spike pulled the covers his way, leaving Xander's form bare.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"I need my blanky, too."  
  
"All right, just don't hog it all."  
  
Spike smirked. Living with the wanker sure was more fun than the Watcher. Look at that, it had been awhile since he had rhymed. Grimace. That was a bad sign. But Spike hadn't believed in bad luck before, so he waited until Xander seemed to relax in bed. Later he moved closer to Xander, but very slowly. Closer. Slow. Closer. Slow. And then he slipped his hand inside Xander's boxers, cupping one butt cheek.   
  
"Spike? Why is your hand on my butt?"  
  
"I'm evil."  
  
"Spike, your fingers are slipping..."  
  
Xander turned around quickly, and Spike seized the moment to smack his lips into the boy's shocked ones. Xander's sudden movement made Spike's fingers hit the semi-erect penis. Now Spike's hand was grabbing Xander's penis, flesh on flesh. The kiss was awful. The boy was trying to talk through the kiss and Spike couldn't even reach the tongue.   
  
He drew back, looking at Xander in disgust. "You're a rotten kisser."  
  
"I’m a distracted kisser." Xander defended his poor kissing before his hand smacked his forehead. "I can't believe I'm talking about kissing with you."   
  
"Shouldn't be talking about it at all." Spike pulled the covers to his body, still giving Xander a disgusted stare. "Didn't know there was anyone who kissed this badly."  
  
"I know how to kiss."  
  
Spike scoffed.  
  
"I was distracted."  
  
Spike scoffed again.  
  
"Shit!"  
  
In an instant, Spike had warm lips crushing his. He opened his mouth to see what the boy was capable of. Xander dove right in, sucking Spike's tongue into his mouth, long, smooth and gentle. Titling his head, Xander did the same thing in a different direction. Out of the blue, Xander bit Spike's tongue to the point of drawing blood.   
  
Spike hadn't realized when Xander had drawn away and was resting on his elbow, waiting for Spike's opinion.  
  
"You were trying too hard to be forceful," Spike commented, giving Xander a wary gaze.   
  
"Whatever. Did you like it?"  
  
Spike stared into Xander's hazel eyes; he'd never known they were hazel, simply because he had never thought of Xander's sodding eyes. Now, he was supposed to rate Xander's kiss? Tasting his own blood, Spike had the urge to throw the stupid tosser on his back and bugger him silly. Blood had always been a weakness to a vampire, and the sneaky little sod must have known that when he sunk his rotten teeth into Spike's tongue.   
  
Not wanting to give an answer, Spike just glared at his little tent, declaring defeat.   
  
"Good," he heard Xander say. "Now go to your chair."   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
He heard the back door of the basement open, and the smell of smoke and blood drifted to his nose.  _Spike. The bastard._    
  
"What? Where's the bird?"  
  
"Gone."  
  
"Why? Thought I'd walk in on you two shagging like bunnies."  
  
Why? That was an excellent question. Why had Anya left? Well, the answer was simple. Anya's fingers. Yep, that was the answer. Anya's fingers were small and slender. Anya's grip was soft and weak. Anya's fingers couldn't get Xander's gun going. That drove Anya mad, and it seemed he wanted to break up with her because his penis hadn't liked her. These were her exact words. The thing was, no, he didn't want to break up with her and, damn, his penis definitely liked her lots.  
  
It sure seemed to like her when she had gestured sex in her Anya sign language back at Giles'. It was even better when their voices had returned, because Anya's dirty talk was very appreciated by Xander's penis. However, it seemed that what Anya had offered wasn't enough, even though it was more than enough the night before last night, and the night before and the night before that.   
  
Xander's sexual experiences so far were two. With Faith, it was fast, forced and hot, but fast. So fast that it was like a blur. It wasn't good. But it was sex, and like any horny teenager, Xander wanted sex. Then Anya had showed up and it was… longer than what he had with Faith. It was better. He had never felt that sensation with Faith.   
  
Anya was very gentle, soft and sweet. Kind of kinky sometimes, but in the end it was sex. Even though her demands for sex were tiring sometimes, but he had never confessed that, especially not to her, because basically he was a guy. The best thing was that she had always been impressed by his performance. He had worked really hard to satisfy her, and thankfully she was fulfilled. His sexual life with her went fine, until…  
  
He glared at the amused vampire who still waited for his answer. "We're done. Then she left."  
  
"What? No snuggles?" Spike was enjoying this. He settled next to Xander in bed. "Guess I was right about the two seconds." The awful smirk was cast his way.  
  
"Go to your chair," he ordered.  
  
"Like I'll stay there all night. Second you fall asleep, I'm sleeping here."  
  
Xander cursed. "Tomorrow I'm getting handcuffs."  
  
"Well, mate, didn't know you had it in you."   
  
"It's to keep you tied up to the chair, you moron!"  
  
"So, it's blow job then."  
  
"Get the hell out of my bed, Spike!" He punched Spike in the face, knocking him off his bed. He was really furious. Last night had ruined tonight. Anya's pathetic attempts to make him grow hard hours ago were no match against Spike's hand job yesterday.   
  
He had always been confused. Everybody had talked about sex, how irresistible it was, how thrilling. Yet, Xander had always struggled to satisfy his partner, and hadn’t felt what everybody had talked about with either Faith or Anya. But he had adjusted. He had gotten obsessed with sex like any teenager his age.   
  
He had remembered the first time he had slept with Anya. He wasn't as excited as she was. It had angered her when he was okay with her decision to leave the next day. He just didn't feel it. Right now it was a little too clear. He had only kept Anya around because he had liked company. Lately, everybody was moving on with their lives and there was no time for townie Xander. He had always hated being overlooked, and that was probably why he had settled with Anya.   
  
But it was creepy. This realization meant one thing. Faith and Anya hadn't satisfied him. Two gorgeous women with a lot of sexual experiences hadn't satisfied him. A soulless, male vampire made him reach climax with only a hand job. Still, was that what his pervert body wanted? His body had responded to Faith and Anya, but it wasn't enough.   
  
Faith wasn't really an issue, since it was nothing but sex. But with Anya, he had expected more. He had already called her his girlfriend. He cared about her to an extent. Yet, something was missing. Was Spike's lousy hand job the missing piece?  
  
Shaking his head to clear away the crazy thoughts, Xander lay back in bed. "So how did we get our voices back?"  
  
"What? Gang didn't tell you?"  
  
"You know Giles. He usually gets flustered when sex is mentioned. And he knows me and Anya are having sex."   
  
"And you never told him how long that lasts?"  
  
Xander jumped off the bed to smack Spike some more.   
  
"Yeah, beat up the man who can't defend himself, why don't you? Show me how much of a loser you are."  
  
Grabbing Spike's collar, Xander stopped as if he was slapped. He looked down into Spike's challenging eyes before he threw him back down at the ground and started pacing in the room. He was not that man. He was not that man. He would  _not_  turn into that man.  
  
"Poor little Xander, he's of no use to his little cluster and his bird; better not get fired when you're pizza delivery boy or what use are you?"  
  
"Oh, like you're any better," Xander snapped, turning around to shoot Spike a glare. He had always tried to keep his temper down, but that was impossible around the annoying bleached freak.   
  
"A Scooby who can't be a Scooby, like a vampire who can't be a vampire," Spike said with a smile. Not a smirk. A smile. Xander was taken aback, staring at Spike who threw himself on bed and leaned against the headboard. Xander sighed and sat next to Spike in bed.  
  
Spike stuffed his hand in his pocket and grabbed his lighter and a packet of cigarettes and began to light himself one.   
  
"No smoking," Xander whispered.  
  
Spike scoffed. He blew smoke at Xander's face. Xander coughed hard for awhile before he heard Spike ask, "Wanna snog?"  
  
Xander glared at him. "No, thanks."  
  
"You seemed to like it last night."  
  
"Oh, right, you're the one who started it, and as I recall, you're the one who liked it." Finally, it was Xander's turn to smirk. "I saw the tent."  
  
"So? I'm a vampire. I like some sucking and biting during sex."  
  
"Yeah, well, not me."  
  
"Then what is it you like?"  
  
"You really want me to kiss you, don't you?"  
  
"I want sex. Don't care who I'm getting it from."  
  
Xander sighed, looking back at his lap, turning unsure eyes at Spike, before looking back down.   
  
"Stop it with the shy virgin act. It’s a great turn off."  
  
"All right," Xander spat; he moved closer to Spike and brushed his lips to the cool ones. It was a gentle, lingering touch of lips before Xander sucked softly on Spike's lower lip, very softly. Then, he gently urged Spike's lips to part before feeling the inside of his mouth, so slowly, and then drew back, unable to see Spike's eyes.   
  
He heard Spike scoff. "That's the poofiest kiss I've ever had."  
  
"Yeah, well, I like poofy kisses," Xander admitted blushing. He settled back in his place, confused. That what Anya had usually given him, and it had always affected him in a positive way. The kiss he had given Spike yesterday was a Faith kiss, which had also affected him in a good way. God, all of this was confusing. He didn't know what he liked anymore. Before it had seemed clear, or that’s what he had thought. Right now, it was all confusing and had already started affecting his sexual life with Anya.  
  
He glanced, uncomfortable, at Spike as he smoked. "Y-you wanna have sex?"  
  
Spike blew a drag of smoke before looking at him, bored. "You offering?"  
  
"I don't know. You wanna?"  
  
"'Course, been saying so all night." Spike gave him a challenging gaze, seeming very confident that Xander wasn't up to it. Xander was nervous, sure. It was a bad idea, it was beyond badness. It was beyond the creation of the word bad.   
  
But Xander needed to know. He needed to know.  
  
 _Bad. Bad. Bad._  His brain kept yelling. Xander closed his eyes, hearing Christina Aguilera singing, 'My body is saying let's go, but my heart is saying no.' He inhaled a shuddering breath before opening his eyes, looking straight into Spike's.  _Bad!_  His brain gave one last yell, desperate.   
  
"All right," Xander answered.   
  
His brain dropped unconscious.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Spike looked down at Xander, who shivered slightly under him. Now if Spike wanted to take Xander's cherry, he should expect the chip to start stinging. He wasn't telling Xander that because the boy had already offered to top, and there was no bloody chance that would happen. Too bad Spike had lowered himself to sleep with the lowest creation of humanity, but he would not take the humiliation of this waste of space to top him.  
  
"S-shouldn't there be something t-to use, like lube or… lube?" Xander stuttered; his body wouldn't stop shivering.   
  
"Have lube?"  
  
"N-no."  
  
"Then there's no lube."   
  
Xander jumped up, knocking Spike off the bed. Groaning, Spike took a pencil and grabbed the paper he had hid under the bed. He crossed the number 9 and wrote 10 indicating the times he was pushed off the bed to the dirty floor. A vampire his age should be treated with respect, not pushed off the furniture. He glared up at the fretting boy; he intended to show him pain through sex, but the stinging in his brain made him think it over, unfortunately.   
  
"I'm not having sex without lube!" Xander exclaimed in the highest pitch of voice Spike had ever heard.   
  
"Then go buy some."  
  
"What? No way. What if someone saw me? Willow, Buffy… GILES!? No way!" Xander shook his head quickly, his locks jumping everywhere.  
  
"Then be a man and just take it!" Spike roared, standing up and casting a hateful stare at the wanker. How humiliating it was to be desperate for sex and to ask for it from Xander of all people. Spike had principles! Shagging the witch would have been lovely; hell, shagging the bleeding Slayer would have been better than this humiliation. The fact that Xander was having second thoughts, making Spike more desperate, was mortifying. This moment would be marked as the most degrading one in William the Bloody's unlife.   
  
"But wouldn't it hurt a lot?" Xander asked pathetically.   
  
"Yes, it will hurt, but you're a bloke, you can handle it. I did."   
  
Xander's eyes widened more, if that was possible. "You slept with other guys before?"  
  
Only one vamp. One time and great animal sex it was. Too bad Angelus had been cursed with a poofy soul too soon after that night. "I'm full of depth."  
  
"Yeah, right."  
  
"'Nough of that. Now are we shagging or not?"  
  
Xander shifted nervously, looking like an eight-year-old boy, making Spike feel more disgusted at how low he had sunk.   
  
"Okay. But…" Spike had the urge to kill him so he could shag Xander's dead body in peace. The chip stood in the way. "…Can we use some lotion instead of the lube?"  
  
"Bring anything, just let’s get started."  
  
Xander walked towards his drawer with raised eyebrows. "You really wanna fuck me, don't you?"  
  
"Don't get all high and mighty. Just wanna have a shag, is all." Xander handed him the Vaseline, and stood in front of him like that skinny pet slave he once had, except Xander was more built than the little tosser. It was very satisfying when Spike had broken off the foot of the bed and smashed his head in with it.   
  
"Lie on the bed," he ordered.   
  
"On my stomach?"  
  
"Unless you want it harder."  
  
"O-okay, on my stomach then."  
  
Once again, Spike climbed the bed and pulled down Xander's boxers quickly. "Hey!" Xander exclaimed angrily. Spike gave him a raised eyebrow. "S-shouldn't you undress, too?"   
  
"Will do after I finish preparing your hole." Spike leered wolfishly, watching Xander roll his eyes.  
  
"You speak romance, Spike."  
  
"Ta, mate."  
  
Spike cupped Xander's buttocks, feeling the warmth reach up to him.  _Humans, forgot how warm they were._  The warmth was doing it for Spike, and he felt a stir.   
  
"Best ass you ever saw, huh?"  
  
Spike blinked, waking up from basking in the sensation. "What?"  
  
"Get on with it!" Xander yelled. Spike jumped.   
  
Spike separated Xander's butt cheeks, feeling a wave of shame washing over Xander, whose mortification alone sent jolts of pleasure to his cock. Nice to have someone other than him humiliated these days. He took the Vaseline and slipped some onto his fingers. He looked at Xander's quivering buttocks, which reminded him of jiggling jelly; maybe a few spanks would have made them look like jelly.   
  
The first finger breached in the tight opening and Spike winced. So tight. It hadn't helped with Xander tensing, making it tighter. "Don't bloody tense," Spike gritted his teeth.   
  
"Why is your face clenching like you're picking up a box full of bowling balls? I'm the one in pain here!"  
  
"Bleedin' chip," Spike muttered. "Won't let me have fun."  
  
"Maybe I should be the one…"  
  
Quickly, Spike pushed a second finger inside. Both Xander and he cried out in pain.   
  
"Shit, Spike! What the hell?"  
  
"Sorry, got excited," Spike lied. He worked most of his two fingers in, moving them gently to get Xander used to the idea. When he could feel that Xander was no longer in pain, he crooked his fingers and quickly found the gland inside the boy.   
  
"Whoa," Xander gasped. "How… whoa..."  
  
Spike smirked as Xander shook with little tremors. He could smell the pheromones pouring off him. He repeated the gesture several times in quick progression. Xander actually started to pant. Spike put some Vaseline on a third finger and added it, stretching Xander gently.  
  
When he took his fingers out, carefully, Xander gave a small disappointed moan. "Well, it seems you like my fingers up your arse," Spike chuckled viciously.  
  
"Get bent, Spike."  
  
"Funny to hear you saying that, mate," Unzipping his trousers, and putting some Vaseline on his shaft, Spike smirked, and went on, "when it's you getting bent." He pushed himself inside Xander and both of them howled in pain. Spike couldn't even hold himself up and fell on top of Xander.   
  
"Shit!"  
  
"Bloody hell!"  
  
Spike decided that he should give Xander plenty of time to adjust to his thick length before he could enjoy rough sex. The heat surrounding Spike was erotic. Once he got rid of this chip, he would make sure to have plenty of human slaves because this felt bloody fantastic.  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Xander shivered under Spike, losing himself in the feeling of the coldness inside him. Spike had hit that spot, sending him waves of pleasure. He had never felt like this during sex, not with Faith or Anya. Spike reached under him and fisted his penis and stroked in rhythm with his thrusts. Xander gave shuddering breaths as he was hit with wave after wave of pleasure, Spike's penis brushing his prostate with each stroke.   
  
Spike started slamming into him with more force and speed, and Xander wasn't able to hold it anymore, reaching his climax. He felt cold seed exploding inside him as Spike had lost it as well, collapsing on top of him.  
  
Xander's face flushed with heat as the cold breaths brushed the back of his sweaty neck. It had felt good,better than what he had had with Faith and Anya. The fact that this one had felt more awkward than any of his earlier sexual experiences made Xander more confused. He couldn't remember ever being this aroused, especially when Spike had touched that spot inside him. So what did this mean? Xander liked taking it up the ass more than sleeping with beautiful women? Not to mention that this was Spike; he hated Spike, he loathed him. How did Spike make him feel this aroused when Anya, the woman he liked, couldn't even get his penis stir earlier this night?   
  
 _Sick. Pervert._  That was him, enjoying sex with a vampire more than a beautiful woman.  
  
Women.   
  
Xander shut his eyes tightly, feeling Spike pull out of him and lay on the other side of the bed.  
  
He turned around, looking at Spike's content expression, feeling even more disgusted with himself. He had always criticized Buffy for sleeping with Angel, now Xander did the same thing with a soulless vampire. But this was an experiment, right? He just wanted to know,  _needed to_. It wasn't like he had fallen for this freak of nature. Yeah, he was saner than Buffy, that was for sure.  
  
"No one knows about this, Spike, ever." Xander warned quietly.   
  
"Right. Don't want other demons taking the piss with me." Spike turned to look at him. Xander could barely keep his eyes open, but he was able to make out Spike's smug expression. "That was good, wasn't it?" Spike asked.   
  
Xander resignedly blinked. "Yeah."   
  
"You're tired. Go to sleep," Spike spoke like he actually cared about Xander's rest. He watched Spike relax in bed in an attempt to sleep.   
  
"Spike," Xander whispered.   
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Go to your chair," he sleepily ordered, closing his eyes and already knowing that Spike wouldn't move to his chair.  
  
Hours later, Xander woke up due to a shaking bed. His eyes flew open, and he watched his closet about to drop from the hard shaking. After little blinking, he realized it was an earthquake.  
  
"Bloody hell," he heard Spike yell. That was when the pipes started shooting water.   
  
Thankfully, the earthquake had stopped. Xander's eyes were still wide from shock; however, it wasn't because of the sudden earthquake, it was because Spike had actually slept in his chair.   
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
Xander relaxed into his pillow, letting out a tired sigh. They had just stopped another apocalypse, although the word 'apocalypse' had stopped being scary after stopping so many. Maybe Xander could stop the next one by himself. Yeah, he could only dream.  
  
An unexpected bomb fell on his bed, causing a heavy vibration that was about to lead Xander to fall off the bed. His eyes snapped open, while his limbs mechanically moved to grab onto something so he wouldn't fall. He shot the unmoving, smug looking blond his best glare. Even the earthquake earlier hadn't made his reflexes go crazy.   
  
Spike lay back, folding his arms behind his head with a stupid dreamy expression stuck on his face. "You know, your chair feels lonely without you," Xander quipped.   
  
Spike turned to look at him with a wide goofy grin. "I can hurt the demons."  
  
Xander rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Spike, you're a hero. Now get off my bed."  
  
Spike narrowed his eyes. "Now why would I do that? You almost got me caught by Captain Cardboard."  
  
"How? You said you were my friend in that horrible Southern accent. I kept quiet and let it be."  
  
"You could've put more effort to it. Besides, we're lovers of a sort," Spike leered.  
  
Xander grimaced. "No way, pal. We just had sex, and can I tell you, my ass is still throbbing."  
  
Looking as smug as ever, Spike relaxed in bed. "Still got it." Looking back at Xander, he asked, "Wanna do it again?"  
  
"Didn't I make myself clear? My ass hurts!" Xander closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then looked back at Spike. "Unless I do you," he suggested, feeling weird. The last two days were weird. Well, living on the Hellmouth meant being subjected to weirdness. Xander would accept a flower to be a demon, a bug to hold them hostage, panties to rule the world, but not sleeping with Spike. That had given the word 'weird' so many new levels.  _Asking_  Spike to sleep with him was on the highest level of freaking weird.   
  
Spike opened an eye and gave him a look. It was an 'Are you kidding me!' stare that made Xander's blood boil. He tried pushing Spike off the bed, but Spike was too aware by now to allow himself to be pushed off the bed. "What? I'm not good enough or something?"   
  
"I would have sex with you if I top. Other than that, forget it."  
  
"You've topped yesterday; today is my turn."  
  
"You think I'll let a lousy human shove their cock in my arse? Not bloody likely."  
  
"Lousy human? I've saved your life tonight, asshole!"   
  
Spike scoffed. "When? When you offered to have me staked?"   
  
"No! When that part of the wall had knocked you down, and I'd jumped in there, regardless of the falling rocks and helped you out." Great. One night of 'passion and love' made Xander turn into a softie, and of course, Spike would dismiss that because _hello_ , Xander. Vampire.   
  
Spike blinked. "Hmm, guess you did." He turned to Xander. "Doesn't change anything. You're the same loser boy with stupid flowery shirts."  
  
Xander raised both eyebrows, eyeing the shirt Spike was wearing. Spike rolled his eyes. "I only wore it because I shrunk my shirt."  
  
"And if  _you_  weren't a loser, you'd know how to wash your shirt without shrinking it."  
  
"How was I supposed to know? We didn't have washing machines when I was a human, and as a vampire, I had minions doing it for me."   
  
"Whatever. Now will you let me top or not?"  
  
"Said no way, didn't I?"  
  
Xander stared at him for a brief moment. "Then get out of my bed." This time he took Spike by surprise and shoved him off. He pulled the covers over his head and huddled in bed.   
  
"Oi," he heard Spike groan. "I bloody will get out of this hellhole."  
  
"Why don't you? After all, you're all big and mighty 'cause you 'cun hu't the deamons'," Xander mimicked Spike's accent.   
  
Spike glared at him. "I don't need this. I fucking need to be respected!"  
  
"Me too," Xander whispered angrily, closing his eyes shut. He tried to block the noise of Spike traipsing all over his basement, breaking his stuff in anger, because Xander was too fed up with him to care. The feeling of inferiority was too much to handle these days, especially around his friends. The fact that Spike, the joke of a vampire, saw him as inferior was a huge blow to his ego.  
  
To make things more complicated, it seemed that every guy at work was suddenly a sex god. His boss had caught him gazing at John's pants and threatened to fire him if he was distracted again, staring at other guys' butts. That was the first time Xander was called a fag. He didn't care because he discovered that, yeah, he was gay. Mystery was finally solved. Thanks to the vampire who was probably smashing his TV by now.  
  
A loud slam of the door upstairs followed by a yelling match between the folks had made Xander grab the pillow to cover both ears in annoyance.  _Great. So freaking great._


	2. Coming Out to Friends

  
  


  
**Lovable Losers**

 

**Chapter Two: Coming Out to Friends**   


  
  
  
  
  
  
Xander was getting impatient. He couldn't handle the stalling anymore. He wanted Spike out of his basement, and hopefully out of his life for good. He wanted Spike  _out_. Period.   
  
"Out," Xander spoke his thoughts out loud. "Before I get the Slayer over here to kick your ass out."  
  
Spike released a bored sigh, leaning to pick up his coat. Good sign. Putting on his coat meant he'd be out of here in no time. "Don't know why she didn't come. Say good-bye, shed a few tears."  
  
"Well, she has an appointment with somebody who's actually still  _scary_."  
  
Spike's expression went rigid for a second before his eyebrows met in clear annoyance. He started stuffing his bag with everything in sight, including a bunch of Xander's comic books.   
  
Xander rolled his eyes.  _I've no time for this crap._  He took a couple of steps toward Spike and sent him falling on his ass with a rough push. As he began emptying Spike's bag of his comic books, he knew Spike wouldn't let him get away with what he'd just done.   
  
He felt Spike's presence before him instantly and lifted his gaze to find Spike's face inches from his, his fierce blue eyes promising nothing but pain. Xander raised his eyebrows daring him to do anything, knowing that he was safe due to the chip in Spike's head. The muscles in Spike's jaw worked in wordless irritation, and Xander could see the ugly realization reflected on the pale face.   
  
Beat, Spike tossed the rest of Xander's comic books out and grabbed his bag, treading to the door.   
  
A sudden inexplicable feeling of sorrow crept upon Xander making his stomach knot. His hands fisted in aggravation at himself; where the hell did sorrow come from? He wanted Spike gone, didn't he? He'd wanted him gone the second Giles had announced he'd stay at Xander's. Just because they'd had sex didn’t mean that anything changed.  
  
When Spike slammed the door shut behind him, Xander's chest swelled. He should be dancing with glee, but he couldn't even force a sigh of relief out of his chest. What happened to him? Just yesterday he was having sane feelings; he'd almost dropped dead when Spike stayed for an extra day. The vamp-wonder was too caught up with his ability to hurt demons that he had dragged Xander and Willow along to the cemeteries. Unfortunately, for Spike, there were no vamps to slay. Fortunately, for Xander and Willow, they had Buffy's nineteenth birthday party to attend. They'd left Spike calling out to the beasties and tortured puppies.   
  
"That was mean, Xander," Anya scolded him. He jumped slightly, forgetting she was here. "You don't tell your houseguest that they're not scary anymore."  
  
Xander gave her a look. "Let me guess: you've read that in some book."  
  
"I did. Guests should be treated with respect and hospitality." It didn't take long before her glare dissolved into a perky smile, and she reached with her hand to play with his collar seductively. "So, now that Spike is gone, we could…" She made a gesture to the bed, using her eyebrow.   
  
Xander shifted nervously. "Yeah, about that, we can't." He dropped his gaze hastily.   
  
She blinked up at him. "But we got rid of Spike."  
  
At this stage, Xander seemed to know her more than before. The whole lecture about respecting guests would be tossed away for sex. Was he doomed to be liked only by people who considered him a sex toy?   
  
"Anya, it's not Spike." Well, it was Spike. Without Spike, Xander wouldn't have turned down Anya sex. But he wasn't going to tell her that.   
  
Anya frowned. "Then what?"  
  
Xander twitched anxiously, rubbing his palms on his sides. Then he took Anya's hands and looked down at her confused face. "Anya, I've been meaning to tell you… I…" He sighed, looking down a few times before focusing on her eyes. "I'm gay."  
  
Anya blinked. "Gay."  
  
"Gay," Xander confirmed.   
  
"Gay," Anya repeated. "As in penises instead of vaginas?"  
  
"Crassly put, but yeah."   
  
She pulled her hands away from him as if he was a disease. "When… when did that happen?"  
  
"Remember when… I couldn't…" He combed his hair with his hand, uncomfortable. Who would have thought this would've been so hard. Anya was someone he could tell anything to, but right now, it felt like the hardest thing to do.   
  
"Perform," he spit out, mortified. "Yeah… it seems I can perform with guys better than with girls." He frowned. "Come to think of it, I'm still not sure about that either."   
  
Anya looked like she was on the verge of bursting into tears. "Tell me you're talking about performing plays. Because that doesn't mean you're gay."   
  
"Not plays, Anya, sex," Xander whispered, trying hard not to avoid her gaze.  
  
She stared at him for a while, her face expressionless and then she looked away. Xander wanted to apologize. Hug her. Make it better somehow. However, he knew any gesture from him would be unappreciated.   
  
Suddenly, Anya looked back at him, fuming. "You cheated on me, you son of a bitch!"  
  
Xander blinked.   
  
"You jerk, asshole, piece of garbage!" She flipped him the bird and then stormed out.   
  
Xander blinked some more.  _Well, she's got a point. I did cheat on my girlfriend. Again._    
  
Groaning, he slapped his palms against his temples and flung himself on bed.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
"Pizza delivery for my favorite gal pals!" Xander announced, pushing the door to Willow and Buffy's dorm room open without knocking. He'd always done that on purpose in order to catch one of them or both in the process of taking off their clothes. Right now, he didn't know what his purpose of doing that was. Although he still wanted to catch a naked Buffy. It became kind of a habit.   
  
Buffy and Willow were seated on Buffy's bed staring at him in silence. Weird uncomfortable silence. That was a first. Usually they'd scream at him for walking in without knocking or roll their eyes at him, or mock him.   
  
"What?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.   
  
Buffy, the fearless Slayer, ventured to tell him first. "We've come across Anya this morning."   
  
"Oh." Xander set the pizza on the study desk, feeling a twinge inside.   
  
"She was pretty pissed," Willow said in a small voice.  
  
"Oh."   
  
"She was cursing and yelling and told us how she sought vengeance upon you from D'Hoffryn," Buffy said. "She didn't seem to take the break up very well."   
  
Xander walked toward them slowly. "Anya tried to have vengeance on me?" he asked, shocked.   
  
"I told you she's not good for you," Willow pointed out, crossing her arms and looking contented.   
  
"I can't believe she'd do that," Xander sat down on Willow's bed, upset. "Wait, why aren't I vengeanced yet?"  
  
"Because D'Hoffryn spit on her face," Willow said with too much glee. Xander looked at Buffy, because apparently when it came to Anya, Willow wasn't the most reliable source for information.   
  
Buffy smiled. "Her words."  
  
Xander considered this. "Okay, so… did she say anything else?"   
  
"Uh, yeah…" Buffy shifted uncomfortable, looking at Willow to continue.  
  
"Anya said…" Willow stared, before looking back at Buffy.  
  
"Yeah, she said…" Buffy tried to say before she turned back to Willow.  
  
"Guys, while we're still alive!" Xander snapped, annoyed.   
  
"You're gay," Buffy and Willow said in a union, before looking down and blushing.   
  
Xander felt his cheeks flush as he looked down as well.   
  
"So, it's true?" Buffy asked.  
  
"I wasn't planning on telling you guys so soon, not until I was sure of it and thought about it some more."  
  
"You're not sure?" Willow asked, concerned.  
  
"I-I am. I think. I was afraid you won't be cool with it."  
  
"We're cool," Willow piped up.  
  
"Total coolness," Buffy also jumped in with crossed fingers. "And there's no reason to be ashamed of that, Xander." She nodded wisely.   
  
Xander's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.   
  
"It kinda explains a lot," Willow mused out of nowhere.   
  
"Explains what?" Xander asked with a frown.  
  
"Falling for girls you can't have and the fact that when you finally got something good going on with Cordelia, you screwed it up."  
  
"Hate to interfere with your psycho analysis, Will, but you also got something good going on with Oz and you blew it."  
  
"Yeah, but I had feelings for you. At that time, I used to think I was in love with you and, you know, I thought I just settled for Oz, it's kinda understandable why I cheated."  
  
"Yeah." Buffy nodded. "And it's also understandable for you. Cordy didn't have a penis."  
  
Willow shifted in her seat, looking thoughtful. "You know I've always thought Cordelia was a man trapped in a woman's body."  
  
Buffy jumped with excitement. "You thought that, too."  
  
"Hey, no trash talk about Cordy," Xander chided. "She's our friend, remember?"  
  
"Sure," Willow said, not sounding convinced.   
  
"So who's your boyfriend?" Buffy asked, patting him on the thigh and grinning with excitement. Willow wiggled in her seat in anticipation.   
  
Xander looked between, speechless. "Boyfri… I don't have one."  
  
"Oh, did you guys break up?" Willow asked, troubled.   
  
"No, it was… you know, I'm not comfortable talking about this with  _you_."  
  
"You want a boyfriend?" Buffy asked eagerly.   
  
"I'm still new with this. Please, don't make a big deal out of it."  
  
"But it's huge!" Willow protested.   
  
"No, no, it's not. And would you please stay out of it," Xander demanded with a hard stare. "No boyfriend fixing or anything stupid like that." At that moment, he wanted to kick himself for putting ideas into their heads.   
  
"Of course, we won't fix you up with a boyfriend," Buffy and Willow promised but their eyes gleamed with evil plans.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Xander muttered under his breath, just noticing that Willow had taken down the 'Dingoes Ate My Baby' poster.   
  
Buffy peaked outside at the long line of college men –AKA potential boyfriends- waiting to be interviewed for the job. She closed the door and squealed, "One of them is your soul mate." She eyed Xander's polo shirt and black slacks that she and Willow had gotten him for his birthday and nodded in approval.   
  
"I'm not doing it," Xander objected for the tenth time, stomping his foot.  
  
Buffy glared and pointed at the chair they'd prepared for him. Xander shook his head. But, one look at Willow's resolve face made him sit down.  _Should've known there was no emergency meeting. Since when do we have emergency meetings anywhere other than Giles' place?_  
  
Willow fixed his hair and straightened his shirt. "If you don't like one of them just gesture for us and we'll call the next one."   
  
The glare he cast her was screaming death. "I hate you."  
  
She giggled and pinched his cheek, and he stuck out his tongue at her.   
  
"So, Gay Guy No.1. Please, come in," Buffy called cheerfully. A nervous young man walked in and stood in front of Xander with a timid grin, trembling. "Hi…"  
  
Xander's eyes observed him thoroughly; he was skinny, short, and with strawberry blond hair.  
  
"H-Hi. M-my name i-is Jake. I-I'm a freshman." He rubbed the back of his neck, mumbling to himself, "Oh, God, um…" He looked back at Xander. "I'm…" A nervous chuckle. "God, okay, okay." He cleared his voice. "H-hi, I'm…uh…" He looked down, chuckling nervously.  
  
Xander blinked and then looked at Willow with a helpless gaze. She nodded understandingly, moving forwards in order to let the boy down easy.  
  
"Next!"  
  
Xander, Willow, and Jake looked at Buffy with wide eyes. She looked back them, confused. "What?"   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
"Hello, name's Francis." A stylish young man with long straight hair waved a hand at Xander. "When I saw the ad, I was like oh my God, someone, like, finally did it, like, you know, to have buoyancy to come out in public…"   
  
Xander couldn't possibly keep up with Jack McFarland as he went on blathering. He could see from the side of his eye Buffy perplexedly mouthing 'buoyancy?' to Willow, who beamed because apparently she knew what it meant.   
  
"So, cutie," Francis said with a wink. "Do we get the Y.E.S.?"  
  
Xander's answer was a timid smile.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
"Hey there, name is James Carter, and yeah, I'm gay," a blond young man said. However, his eyes were not looking at Xander, they were firmly fixed on Buffy's tight blouse. He looked at Willow with a cocky smile. "But you can call me JC, babe."  
  
Willow smiled nervously. "Are you sure you're gay?"  
  
JC moved closer to her. "Why am I here then?" he whispered seductively.  
  
"Obviously not for me," Xander replied sarcastically, slapping his hands on his thighs and standing up. "Okay, think I'm gonna go."  
  
"What?" Buffy and Willow exclaimed in union. "But… but there are still more gay guys out there," Willow said, her eyes pleading for him to stay.  
  
"Sorry, Will, but I really don't think any of them is…" he stopped as he noticed JC trying to feel up Willow's behind. "Get away from her, dumbass!" he yelled at JC, grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him outside the room. All the guys standing in the line outside whistled and clapped. Xander just rolled his eyes.   
  
He suddenly felt Buffy's hands grab him and pull him inside the room. He was pushed to his seat and almost fell backward to the floor. "You're not getting out of here without a boyfriend," Buffy threatened.   
  
"Why the insistent need to give me a boyfriend?" Xander threw out his arms in anger.   
  
"Because you don't have one."  
  
"Willow doesn't have one either!"  
  
"Ehm, excuse me," a nervous voice from outside said. All the three friends looked at shy looking dark haired guy. "I think it's my turn to be interviewed."  
  
Before Buffy and Willow could answer, Xander quickly stood up. "I'm sorry, buddy, but interview hours are over." He looked at Buffy and Willow. "And now I need to leave." He ran away, praying to God Buffy wouldn't try to catch him.  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
"I could've spent my afternoon quietly reading Tennyson and having another cup of tea instead of trying to walk in this boisterous, crowded supermarket," Giles complained while trying to roll the stroller between the assertive mass of people.   
  
"Giles, you were watching  _The Bald and the Beautiful_ ," Xander pointed out, throwing a box of Cocoa Puffs into the stroller.   
  
"It's  _Bold_."   
  
"I know. But  _Bald_  sounds more bold." Xander looked at the stroller, full of groceries that Giles desperately needed –according to Xander- but one thing was missing. He looked at the freezer by the corner where the fried goodies lay.   
  
"Okay, I'll go get the chicken nuggets," Xander said.  
  
Giles squeezed his eyes shut to show his suffering. "Xander, we've taken enough."  
  
"Tonight my dinner will be fried chicken nuggets," Xander insisted. He hopped between the crowds and waved a hand. "Won't take long."   
  
The minute he reached the freezer, he smacked onto the back of a man, his body recoiling backwards and his back hitting the steel shelves that contained glass bottles of alcohol. A few bottles dropped on top of Xander and broke on the floor. Shocked and hurt, Xander looked up at a buff looking man in front of him. The man was simply charming. His hair was light brown, his features were angled and his build was perfect. And his face… looked absolutely pissed.  
  
"Are you fucking blind?" the man roared at Xander.   
  
"I'm sorry," Xander said.   
  
"Next time walk like everybody else instead of trotting around like a bungling clown!" He looked down at Xander's alcohol soaked clothes. "Losers like you are the reason our country is backsliding. Wish one of these smashed your head into un-reattached pieces."  
  
Xander blinked, unsure how to reply to that.   
  
A shorter man appeared behind Rude Charming Man. He patted the muscled arm with his clammy hand and tried to calm the taller man down. Rude Charming Man scoffed and walked away. Shorter Skinny Man looked at Xander with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. Dana has been through a hard break up, that's why he's so cranky." He trailed off after Dana.   
  
Xander stared at them in shock before he heard Giles call out his name. "Xander, good lord. Are you all right?" Giles helped Xander up and opened a box of tissues for Xander to use on his wet clothes.  
  
Giles stared at the retreating men, polishing his eyeglasses. "That was odd."  
  
"You betcha," Xander let out. "Who the hell names a boy Dana?"   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
"I can't believe I spent all that money on pointless groceries," Giles complained, dragging four bags of groceries to the front door of his apartment. "I can't believe I paid money for five bottles of beer I did not drink."  
  
Embarrassed, Xander threw Giles glance. "Sorry about that."  
  
Giles opened the door and they walked in. Xander stopped short when he noticed Anya sitting by the edge of his sofa.  
  
"Didn't I lock the door?" Giles asked, confused.  
  
"I see you got here first," Anya said, looking at Xander. "Damn!" she cursed angrily, storming out of the apartment.  
  
Xander closed his eyes tiredly, heaving a sigh.  
  
"Got here first?" He heard Giles question in confusion. "What is she talking about?"  
  
"We broke up."  
  
"Oh" Giles appeared sympathetic. "When?"  
  
"Two days ago."  
  
"Oh," that 'oh' had a whole different tone to it. "And I'm assuming Buffy and Willow know about this." He gave Xander a hard look as he leaned on the bar of the kitchen with his arms crossed.   
  
Xander shifted, uncomfortable. "Yes."  
  
Giles cursed, making Xander withdraw in case. "How is it that I'm the last one to know about certainly everything?"   
  
"Hey," Xander exclaimed trying to defend himself. "Sorry you're having problems with Buffy spilling her beans to the GI Joes. But it's not like we, and by that I mean you and I, have this sort of talky talky relationship."  
  
Giles frowned. "Don't we?"  
  
"No! Only times I come to you are when I screw up and ask you how to fix it, or to research. Other than that…"  
  
"Or when Buffy and Willow are busy with their college matters, and you have no one to bother but me." Giles smirked. Giles should never be allowed to smirk.  
  
"It's never been like that," Xander denied weakly.   
  
Giles gave him a look.   
  
Xander was about to protest, but instead hung his head in shame.  
  
Giles shook his head and took one of the bags and headed to the kitchenette to put some of the food in the fridge. "If you don't mind, can you tell me why you and Anya separated?"  
  
Xander sighed. "I'm gay."  
  
Giles scolded at him. "Really Xander, if you don't want to tell me..."  
  
"No, Giles, that's the truth. I'm gay."  
  
Giles looked deeply into Xander's eyes in such a ridiculous fashion that Xander leaned forward imitating him. Giles' eyes widened comically. "You're serious."  
  
"I am." Xander rubbed his hands on his sides nervously. "We broke up because I'm gay." A pause. "And I cheated."  
  
"Xander," Giles sounded disappointed.  
  
"But… but… I'm gay. Cheating was the only way to discover that," he shut up when Giles looked at him disapprovingly. "And I'm a big selfish jerk," he muttered, looking down.   
  
Giles sighed, resuming clearing up the bags. "No wonder Anya was quite upset."  
  
"I know," Xander whispered. "Can you… like talk to her or something? She's pretty much alone and has no friends, so maybe if some of us talked to her, she'll know we care."  
  
Giles looked at him. "You care about her."  
  
"I do. Believe me, if I didn't know… about the gayness, I'd still be dating her. So could you?"  
  
"I suppose I shall. She was here anyway, so I believe she wanted to consult me about this more than anyone."  
  
"Nah, she already talked about it to Buffy and Willow, and since their reactions were enthusiastic delight, she thought you'll be the one who'll take it hard, and therefore, have me embarrassed in the process."   
  
"Oh," Giles looked down, dismayed.   
  
"But I could be wrong you know," Xander blurted out, knowing how much Giles felt neglected and useless lately. Something Xander could understand.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

 


	3. Rude Charming Boyfriend

  
  
  


  
**Lovable Losers**

 

**Chapter Three: Rude Charming Boyfriend**   


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Shit. Shit. Shit. Xander banged his head on the bar in anger. He was no longer pizza delivery boy. The fag had to be fired. Why must his boss be such a homophobic jerk? Now how was Xander supposed to pay this month's rent? His eyes wandered around the dirty, sticky bar. So many scary, filthy looking men around. Now that he was gay, maybe he could get money by sucking… whoa, where did that come from? He banged his head again. Disturbing thoughts, skip hence. There would be no thoughts about sucking dicks in this smutty brain. He'd had  _one_  gay sex - very awkward and bad yet enjoyable to his shame – one lousy lay didn't mean he had to whore himself to every walking dick.   
  
Though he could have sex again, see if second times were better than firsts as a lot of people said. Why did he kick Spike out again? Head bang.  
  
"Would you just quit it, asshole? Some of us wanna enjoy a good beer."  
  
Xander blinked. Familiar voice. He looked to his right and his eyes popped out. "Dana?" he gasped.   
  
Dana looked at him with a frown. "Do I know you?"  
  
"We bumped into each other at the supermarket today."   
  
Dana's frown intensified and he looked thoughtful, like he was searching for Xander's face in the deepest place in his brain, but apparently with no success.  
  
"You know, when the beer fell on top of my head?" Xander pressed.  
  
"Ahh, the clumsy idiot." Dana grinned widely.  
  
Xander raised his glass with a dopey smile. "That's the one."  
  
Dana patted his back. "How ya doing?"  
  
"Fired. You?"  
  
"Dumped."  
  
Xander nodded. "Well, I had to break it off with my girlfriend yesterday."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"'Cause…" Xander thought it over. This guy was massively large and had a bad temper. He was also recently dumped. Maybe Xander's reasons to break it off with Anya would send him over the edge as well. Anya wanted to wish vengeance on him, maybe Dana was D'Hoffryn's little gift to Anya for old times' sake.   
  
"Justin thought I was too aggressive in bed," Dana shared without hearing Xander's reasons for dumping Anya.  
  
"Justin?" Xander gasped. "You mean you're…"  
  
"Got any problem with that?" Dana looked very threatening it almost made Xander laugh.  
  
"No, of course not!" he exclaimed. "I broke up with Anya 'cause I'm gay."  
  
Eyes turned to stare at him after his outburst. Xander sank in his chair in embarrassment, wanting to cover his face with his hand. Suddenly, Dana stood up and looked down all staring eyes. Everybody who feared for themselves, which was everybody, looked away.   
  
Xander blinked. "Wow," he whispered.  
  
Dana sat down. "Glad I didn't have to talk," he muttered.  
  
Yeah, that was a plus, Xander thought.   
  
Dana played with his glass, watching the beer dance slowly. "So, you just came out?"  
  
"Two nights ago."  
  
"Hmmm."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"Known my entire life. My parents started fixing me up with guys since I was thirteen."  
  
"Cool." If Xander's parents knew about him, hell would definitely freeze.   
  
They sat in silence for a while. Xander wasn't sure if he should make conversation or just keep quiet. With a big guy like Dana, he ought to be careful. He was experienced when it came to bullies and Dana struck him as one. One gorgeous, big-built, charming bully.   
  
"So…" Dana stopped with a small smile. "Uh, your name is?"  
  
Xander gave a lopsided smile, all that time knowing Dana's name and he didn't get to introduce himself. "Xander."  
  
"First time I heard a name like that."  
  
"Short for Alexander."  
  
"Ah, wouldn't Alex be more normal?"  
  
"I don't know,  _Dana_." Xander snapped his mouth shut the second he said it.  _Insulting big guys, Xander, thought you were experienced with bullies._    
  
To his relief, Dana exploded laughing. "Yeah. That kept haunting me for years." He stared at him with a twinkle in his eyes. "I like you."  
  
"I'm glad you do."  
  
"Wanna come to my apartment?"  
  
Xander frowned. Was the guy hitting on him? Was that an invitation to have sex? Well, the last thing Xander wanted was going back to his basement and trying to explain to his dad why the rent would be late this month. Whatever awaited him at Dana's apartment wouldn't be worse than that.  
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
No, it definitely wasn't worse.   
  
"Oh, sweet Moses." Xander exhaled, lying back on Dana's bed, looking up at ceiling. He'd just had another round of sex with someone who was bigger than himself. With someone who didn't have a cold penis. With someone who was not  _Spike_ , but shared his relentless rudeness.   
  
Xander felt Dana's big hand brushing his hair tenderly, an action that went completely against his discourteous personality. Xander almost believed he was imagining the tender gesture. "You have a nice dick," Dana whispered in his ear.   
  
Okay,  _that_  he could imagine. "Really? Milton Berle nice? "  
  
"Milton Berle doesn't have a nice dick."  
  
Xander looked at Dana with a smile. "How'd you know?"  
  
"Question is: who thinks that he does?"  
  
"Rachel."  
  
"Who?"  
  
Xander grinned bashfully. "Been watching a lot of  _Friends_  lately."  
  
Dana grimaced, his hand leaving Xander's hair. Xander stopped himself from pouting at the loss, knowing full well that he'd be mocked for it. "Oh, man, I hate sitcoms. Especially those with the lousy laugh track."  
  
"I'll watch a show about a fat husband and a thin wife over another soap opera." He'd watch anything over something Spike liked.   
  
"But soaps are the real comedy. Cheesy music, overdone acting  _and_  the hair pulling. Genuine comedy."  
  
"Genuine boredom," Xander muttered. How was it possible that every man he knew liked soaps? But what really annoyed him was Dana and Spike having yet another thing in common. No, Dana was bigger, better built and more pleasant to be with; plus not having a past record for murder. He was nothing like Spike. Xander would be damned if he'd ever sleep with anyone like Spike.   
  
The thought of Spike made him feel scratchy. He tossed and turned until he found a comfortable position and willed sleep to creep into him, thinking pleasant thoughts that had nothing to do with blood-sucking fiends.   
  
"So… your ex, was his dick big?"  
  
So much for not thinking about Spike. "What now?"   
  
"I can tell it isn't your first time. Was his big?"  
  
Xander looked at Dana over his shoulder, making sure his face reflected his feelings of disbelief and befuddlement. "I'm not having this conversation."  
  
"Why not?" Dana looked completely confused.  
  
Was this guy dumb or what? Who'd ask these questions? Xander stared at his perplexed expression and knew he was serious. Suddenly, Xander remembered Anya. "Yes, it was," he said with an annoyed sigh. "It almost sliced me in half."  
  
"I can do that for you!" Dana offered with so much enthusiasm.  
  
Xander gave him a lopsided smile. "Thanks, but you already did."  
  
Dana grinned smugly. And now Xander remembered Spike's happy smile when Xander told him that his ass was still throbbing. Feeding the male ego made men look superficial and unintelligent, and Xander spent too much time with girls to realize that. He was one of the girls, which was probably why Spike didn't want him to top and didn't respect him enough –which was sexist and wrong, and why the hell was he thinking about Spike again?  
  
"You didn't say what you thought of mine?"  
  
Xander rubbed his forehead tiredly. Better complement the guy's machoness or else Xander would be thrown out of the apartment in his underwear. Again. "It was lovely… and very aggressive."  
  
"Been called Titanic."  
  
Xander chuckled in amusement.   
  
"Cheesy but true."  
  
"It's cheesy all right." Xander couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He relaxed into the mattress and felt himself drifting into sleep.  
  
"Wanna snuggle?"   
  
Xander blinked, he looked back at Dana. "Okay."  
  
Xander drew back and Dana enveloped him and closed his arms tightly around him. Too tight. "Uh… Dana, breathing issues."  
  
"Oh, sorry," Dana loosened his hold, and buried his nose in Xander's hair.   
  
Xander closed his eyes. "This is nice."   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Okay, drinking coffee with a guy at the Espresso Pump where they were out in public and everybody could see them? Huge step, considering that said guy was the guy Xander had slept with yesterday. But people didn't know that, which was why they weren't looking at them, because two guys drinking coffee didn't necessarily mean they were gay. Yet Xander still kept a cautious eye, glancing around at everybody from time to time. He'd never really went coffee drinking with a guy before. Now he was on a date with one. A guy who chatted away non-stop, asking all kinds of questions, getting to know Xander: this was probably his best first date ever.   
  
"Maybe I can help you get a job," Dana said, taking a sip from his coffee.  
  
Xander stopped playing with his coffee cup, taken aback by Dana's offer. "Really?"  
  
"I work at a restaurant across the street. I'm the pastry chef," Dana said. "Today is my day off, but I can still swing by and introduce you to the boss."  
  
Xander had an uncomfortable smile on his lips. "I can't cook to save my life."  
  
"You can be a waiter. They need a couple of waiters for the night shift." Dana drank the last drop from his cup. "Lowie, the head waiter, is a close friend of mine. He's gonna like you."  
  
"You mean you can get me hired?"  
  
"Well, that depends on you." He gave Xander a very charming smile, and Xander couldn't help but melt on the inside. The guy got the Tom Cruise crinkled-eyes smile, and it looked much better on him.   
  
"I'll get us more coffee." Dana winked and walked to the counter. Xander felt his cheeks flush and his heart beating fast. He fought the urge to drop his head on the table and sigh dreamily. This guy… he was different. Yes, he was rude and sexy like the rest of Xander's exes, but… there was something more. Something Xander couldn't put a finger on.   
  
Dana came back with a pot and poured more coffee into Xander's cup, tossing a pack of clean tissues his way. That was it. Dana took care of him. He made sure Xander got the hot coffee and fresh clean tissues. He was going to get him a job. Dana gave, expecting nothing in return.   
  
Xander stared at his coffee cup, watching the swirls of steam rise and dissipate. "How about your ex?"  
  
Dana sat in his chair and poured himself coffee. "What?"  
  
"You asked about my ex's dick. How about yours?"   
  
"Who? Carter, Nomad or Justin?"  
  
Xander blinked. "All?"   
  
"Long and small, short and big, short and small."  
  
"Wow, you've tried them all."  
  
"No, I don't try, they try."  
  
Xander frowned. "You've never been bottom?"  
  
"No."  
  
Xander stared at Dana drinking his coffee silently, his thoughts drifting out again. The similarities between Dana and Spike were killing him. He couldn't just date the same people over and over. Whatever happened to Dana being different? "Maybe I wanna be on top sometime," he said with poise.   
  
Dana chuckled. "We'll see."  
  
Xander shook his head, his gaze hard and confident. "No, it's gonna happen."  
  
Dana looked back at him and smiled. He tucked at Xander's nose, and excused himself to the bathrooms.   
  
Xander blinked. "What the hell?"  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
_I'm going to_ kill _Dana!_  This was one of the fanciest restaurants in Sunnydale, in a modern Italian sense, and Xander stood no chance of getting the job.  
  
They'd arrived early in the morning before the restaurant opened for breakfast, so that Xander could be interviewed without interruptions. According to Dana, the headwaiter was very devoted to his job and could never be contacted during work hours. He'd be too busy keeping a close eye on the waiters, instructing them and repeating the rules whenever it was needed. Dana called that devotion, Xander called it super strict.   
  
Standing in the empty restaurant, Xander was creeped out by the elegant décor, the shiny merchandise and the white linen tablecloths and napkins. He particularly didn't like the way the head waiter's critical eyes examined him. Xander had made sure he dressed presentably for the interview, so he'd washed the polo shirt and slacks that were soaked with beer from his last trip to the supermarket.  
  
The headwaiter, what was his name? Lowie. He crinkled his nose and twisted his lips, not liking what he saw. "I don't know."   
  
"You don't know what?" Dana asked somewhat aggressively. Xander felt a smile tug on his lips, liking how Dana took issue with Lowie's unsatisfied stare. Like how dare he even suggest that Xander wasn't good enough. Xander felt his spirits rising up.   
  
Lowie crossed his chest with an arm while the fingers of his other one held his chin. "He doesn't look like a waiter."   
  
"He looks better than you." Xander's eyes widened in shock. Lowie cast Dana a dirty look. "Well, for one thing, he's more built."  
  
"Exactly." Lowie snapped his fingers together. "I like my waiters like chopsticks dancing around tables and passing people with their trays held up high and glued to their hands." Lowie looked up at the invisible distance envisioning the whole thing.   
  
Dana shared a look with Xander. "We're not in a musical, Lowie. Besides, a bunch of lookalikes would be boring."  
  
Lowie shook a finger in Dana's face. "Disagree. And being in this biz for over nine years now, I'm well aware that it's an impossible dream." He glanced at Xander with a sigh. "Oh, all right." He folded his arms across his chest and asked, "What do you know about waiting?"  
  
Xander bit his lower lip uncertainly. "You mean there's more to bringing the right dish to the right table?"  
  
Lowie didn't look impressed.   
  
"Uh, take orders, get orders, and then take the bill?"   
  
Lowie heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Have you had previous experience in similar establishments?"  
  
"Uh, I worked as a bartender once."  
  
Lowie's eyes went so wide they'd pop, and they almost shot fire. "Bartender?" he barked, making Xander jump. He spun around to look at Dana. "Bartender, Dana, bartender!"  
  
"Calm down, Lo." Dana patted the man's back and instructed him to inhale and exhale. He looked at Xander over Lowie's head. "Do you have hands?"  
  
Xander raised his eyebrows. "You of all people know I do."  
  
Dana smirked for a split second before looking at Lowie. "I don't see any reason why he shouldn't be hired."  
  
Lowie looked between them before realization hit him. "Oh. I see." He jerked out of Dana's grip, fixing his tie. "I am not going to sabotage the repetition of this restaurant hiring your incompetent boyfriend."  
  
"You don't know he's incompetent. Try him first."  
  
"Not on a real customer that's for sure." Lowie walked to one of the empty tables and sat on a chair. "I'll pretend to be a customer and he'll wait on me."  
  
Xander swallowed and nodded.   
  
Lowie put his elbow on the table, rested his chin on his palm, and gazed ahead. His other hand was on the table and his fingers started drumming in boredom. Impatient, Lowie made a gesture for Xander to do something.   
  
Xander jumped to task and grabbed an empty plate from another table, placing it before Lowie. He stood waiting for instructions until Lowie lifted a critical eyebrow, ordering him with his eyes to take a hike.   
  
When Xander was about to leave, he winced when Lowie called, "Waiter!"  
  
Xander turned around, blinking at Lowie's glare and his skinny finger pointing at the plate. "This is not the food I ordered."  
  
Xander glanced at Dana with a tinge of uncertainty, and Dana smiled encouragingly. Xander reached for the plate and took it. "Oh, I'm really sorry for that, sir. I'll be right back with your order."  
  
He walked to Dana with the plate, but Dana gestured with his hand for him to put the plate down again. Xander went back and placed the plate in front of Lowie again.   
  
Lowie's nose crinkled. "I asked for a medium rare steak. This piece of meat is burnt black."  
  
Xander masked his annoyance with a forced smile. "I'll get it fixed right away, sir." When he reached for the plate, Lowie slapped his hand, standing up.  
  
Lifting his chin up, Lowie looked him in the eye. "Always arrive at least 10 minutes before your scheduled shift. Smile like your life depends on it. Take drink orders clockwise starting at your left. Don't overly badger the customers. When the main course is served, always ask "May I get you anything else?" He grimaced at Xander's blinking face. "And there's more where that came from."   
  
Lowie brushed against Xander's shoulder as he made his way to the back room. "I expect you here tomorrow at eight and make sure you wear a tie."  
  
When Lowie disappeared out of sight, Xander looked at Dana with furrowed eyebrows. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but did I really get the job?"  
  
Dana winked. "Knew you would."  
  
Xander stared at Dana in disbelief for a moment before a smile crept to his lips. "I got the job."  
  
Dana approached him and planted his lips on his, slipping his tongue inside. Xander melted into the kiss completely taken over, his gaze went unfocused and his eyelids fluttered slightly before closing shut. The restaurant began to spin and stars erupted all over his body. God, this was the softest, gentlest poofy kiss he'd ever had. It was perfect.   
  
Xander reluctantly pushed Dana back and looked into his gray eyes, thrilled to see passion and hunger in there.   
  
A shaky smile played on Xander's lips. "You know, maybe I want you to meet my friends."  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
The air at Giles' apartment was too intense, infused with a sense of uneasy anticipation. Everybody was on edge, Xander too, but not as much as his friends. They appeared more nervous to meet Dana than Xander was. Willow's hands were actually shaking.  
  
Xander gazed up at Dana with a smile. He looked really good tonight. His hair was combed back neatly, his gray shirt was plastered to his chest, every muscle clearly defined, and his tight jeans showed off his muscular legs to perfection. Xander's breath was caught in his throat.  
  
Noting his friends' teasing looks, Xander cleared his throat. "Guys, this is Dana Turner. He's a chef at the only fancy Italian restaurant in Sunnydale."   
  
Buffy's eyes widened, looking at Dana with awe. "Avanti Ristorante?"  
  
Xander glanced at Dana, who nodded, and then returned his gaze to Buffy. "That's the one." He pulled Dana toward his friends, mainly to feel the muscles in his arms, and they stopped in front of Willow.   
  
"Dana, this is Willow, my oldest friend."  
  
Willow's hand was still shaking when she shook Dana's. "H-hey, Xander told us so much a-about you."  
  
Dana raised an eyebrow. "When did that happen?"  
  
Willow bit her lip. "Uh, just now. But the info was like a lot. So much." She grinned apprehensively.  
  
Xander rolled his eyes, pulling Dana –with a little squeeze for pleasure- toward Buffy. "Dana, this is Buffy."  
  
"Hey," Buffy said, holding up her hand for Dana.   
  
A smirk rose up to Dana's lips as he shook Buffy's hand. "Strong grip."  
  
Xander frowned when he noticed Buffy and Dana shaking each other's hands so hard that limbs were going to fly off. Xander eyed Dana with worry; the expression on his face gave the impression that his arm was going to pop out of its socket.   
  
"Uh, Buffy…"  
  
Buffy let go of Dana's hand at once and flashed a sweet smile at him.   
  
Dana held his hand, shooting incredulous stares at Buffy's petite body. Knowing how much looking macho mattered to Dana, Xander wasn't surprised when the man held up his chin with dignity. "It isn't manly to crack a woman's bones with a handshake."   
  
"I'll beat you at arm wrestling in a wink," Buffy said confidently.   
  
"That's enough, Buff." Xander dragged Dana to Giles before the vain in his forehead started sticking out. "And this is Giles."   
  
Giles extended a hand, but Dana didn't shake it. He just stared at it with a funny expression. "You hang out with an old dude."  
  
Giles withdrew his hand and scratched his temple. "And I'm pleased to meet you."  
  
Xander glared at his impossible boyfriend. "Dana, Giles used to be the librarian in my high school."  
  
"Ah." A look of disgust clouded Dana's face. "Urgh."  
  
Giles looked offended. "Hey."  
  
Buffy pointed a finger in anger. "Whatever you're thinking, perv, is not true."  
  
"Dana," Xander said, shocked.   
  
Dana turned his disgusted look to Xander. "Was he your first?"  
  
"Dana!"  
  
Buffy looked sick. "I think I vomited in my mouth."  
  
Dana glared at Giles. "You know this is illegal, right?"  
  
The expression on Giles' face was utter repulsion. "I have never…"  
  
"Then explain your relationship with these teenagers," Dana cut him off crossly.   
  
"Enough!" Xander screamed on the top of his lungs. He grabbed Dana's shoulders and turned him around to face him. "God, Dana, Giles is our mentor." He glared right into Dana's blinking eyes. "There's… there's more to it than that, but I'm not ready to tell you yet."  
  
Dana nodded his head at Buffy. "Does it explain why Tiny Blondy has a fist of a gorilla?"  
  
Xander felt a strong hand pulling him away from Dana. He met Buffy's furious green eyes. "Xander, can we talk?" She dragged Xander behind her to the kitchen area.   
  
Buffy planted her hands on her hips, her eyebrows meeting in anger. "Xander, are you sure that's Mr. Right?"   
  
Xander's face flushed, recalling how he'd described Dana to his friends on the phone. He held up his hands defensively. "Look, he's a little rude…"  
  
Buffy's eyes almost bugged out. "A little?"  
  
"But… once you get to know him, you're gonna like him. I swear."  
  
Buffy shook her head. "I don't see it."  
  
"C'mon, Buff. Give him a chance."  
  
Now Buffy crossed her arms against her chest, tapped her foot on the floor, and looked at him with a look he really didn't like. "Like you gave Angel a chance?"  
  
Xander narrowed his eyes. "That's low." Buffy shrugged. "Besides, I've learned my lesson. I'm totally cool with you and that Riley Benn dude."  
  
"Finn," Buffy corrected.   
  
"Whatever." Xander placed his hands on her shoulders and begged her with his eyes. "Please, you're more mature than me. You know it."  
  
Buffy looked like she wanted to torture him some more but ended up rolling her eyes. "All right." Then she poked his nose with a pointed finger. "But I won't tolerate making fun of my height." She withdrew her finger and pouted. "I'm taller than Jonathan."  
  
Suddenly, Willow walked past them to the bathroom, hands covering her eyes. Buffy followed her in an instant, and Xander held back a groan. He knew Dana was behind it.   
  
Willow smacked the bathroom's door behind her making both Xander and Buffy jump. Buffy started knocking on the door in an instant. "Uh, Will, what's wrong?"  
  
The door snapped open suddenly revealing a red faced Willow with watery eyes. "He said I speak in a grating, breathy way."   
  
Buffy and Xander shared an uncomfortable look.  
  
"I don't, right?" Willow's insecure voice was so painful to hear.   
  
"You don't, of course," Xander and Buffy chimed in union. A little too fast and unconvincing.   
  
Willow's eyes went so wide they nearly fell out of her head. "Oh my God, I do!"  
  
"It's not really bad," Buffy said. "It's… childlike."  
  
"Completely adorable," Xander added. They both nodded reassuringly.   
  
Willow looked between them, looking worse than she used to, and then smacked the bathroom door shut again.   
  
Buffy glared at Xander, and all he could do was smile weakly.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
The night was chilly as were most of the nights in Sunnydale, not cold chilly, but more out of caution and fear. There had always been something about Sunnydale at night; it was a too dark even with the moon illuminating the streets in a cloudless sky. There always seemed to be something moving in the bushes and weird quiet sounds going on around, an invisible hand reaching out of nowhere and landing on an unaware person's shoulder.  
  
A hand rested on Xander's shoulder.  
  
Xander jumped with a yelp.  
  
A charming smile played on Dana's moonlit face. "You're intense."  
  
Xander shivered slightly, looking at Dana's black leather jacket that made him look dangerous, and sexier than ever. "Nothing, just… don't like being out this late. Don't you hear stories?"  
  
"The town of death, I know." Dana shrugged. "Makes it somewhat exciting, doesn't it?"  
  
"Not really," Xander mumbled.  
  
Dana smiled, patting him on the back. They started walking again to Dana's apartment. Xander hadn't slept in the basement for the last couple of days, and he wasn't sure he wanted to sleep there any time soon. He actually dreaded the day Dana would ask about where he lived. Or worse, wanted to go there. He'd been cool about a lot of Xander's embarrassing traits, but would he be cool about his loser boyfriend still living with his parents?   
  
"I don't think your friends like me," Dana said, bringing Xander back from his thoughts.   
  
"Of course, they do."  
  
Dana gave him a look.   
  
"Okay they will. Let's face it; you're not exactly Mr. Manners. But once they get to know you, they'll like you." Xander flashed a reassuring smile at Dana, even though he needed reassuring himself. His friends hadn't really accepted Anya before due to her tactless behavior – and obviously the last thousand years of slaughtering men – so, it was no wonder they couldn't warm up to Dana.   
  
At least he wasn't dating Spike. Now that wasn't a boyfriend one could bring to meet the family.   
  
Long leather coat with a white head and a cloud of smoke slipped out of the shadows striding toward them.   
  
"Shit," Xander cursed under his breath and stopped walking at once.   
  
Dana stopped next to him, confused. "What?"  
  
"Well, well, look what we have here." Spike dropped the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. He tucked his tongue behind his teeth and smirked at Xander.   
  
Dana's eyebrow raised a fraction. "Who's this peroxided pest?"  
  
Irritation clouded Spike's face. "Watch it, twit. You don't wanna get on my bad side."  
  
A blank expression appeared on Dana's face. "Don't tell me this skeletal pastel was your ex?"  
  
"Ex?" Spike scoffed. "Not even close. That ass-monkey is below my standards."  
  
"Who are you calling ass-monkey?" Dana barked, taking an angry step forwards. He had to bend down a little to be at Spike's eye level. "If you badmouth him again, I'll break every bone in that skinny body of yours."  
  
Xander stared at Dana in shock. The last time anyone felt offended on his behalf was when Cordelia declared that she was going to date him no matter how lame he was. But this time he felt his heart leaping out of his chest and bursting with unsettling feelings of utter happiness. He stuffed his tingling fingers in his pockets and ducked his head so that no one would catch the big stupid grin on his face.   
  
Spike had to stand on his toes to smack his nose to Dana's, a worrying smirk curled up his lips as he whispered, "I was the first to take his cherry, and let me tell you, it wasn't sweet."   
  
Dana didn't wait a second before he started pummeling Spike to death. Xander tried to get Dana off Spike and not get beaten by accident. "Dana, Dana, stop."  
  
Dana whipped his head toward him. "Did you hear what he said about you?"  
  
"No, 'cause the best way to handle Spike is to ignore him. Do that and he'll go away." Xander felt relieved when Dana withdrew away from Spike. "He's not worth it, pal."  
  
Spike scoffed from his place on the ground. "Not worth it, eh?" He got to his feet, dusting his coat. "Didn't look like it when you begged me to bugger you silly that night."  
  
Dana was about to kick the crap out of Spike again, when Xander pulled him away. "C'mon, Dana, let's go."  
  
Dana reluctantly obeyed and they started walking away, hearing Spike shouting insults after them.  
  
Xander tried to block the words, focusing on getting away from Spike as fast as possible before Dana lost it again. He hated to admit it, but Spike's words stung, not that Xander expected anything else. What was a lousy shag to Spike was Xander's best sexual experience, before Dana of course. He shouldn't care what Spike thought, not with Dana around. Dana cared about him, protected him, defended him, and thought Xander was exceptional in bed.   
  
He didn't know when Spike's opinion started to matter. It didn't. It shouldn't.   
  
Xander had Dana. Handsome, strong, tall, and  _human_. Who the hell was Spike when there was a guy like Dana who thought that Xander was a good catch?   
  
  


~*~*~*~


	4. Rude Charming Vampire

  
  


  
**Lovable Losers**

 

**Chapter Four: Rude Charming Vampire**   


  
  
  
  
  
So, the sodding twit got himself a rebound. Cute.  _Not._  
  
Spike set the empty glass of beer on the bar and peered over his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of Xander and his giant sitting in a booth not far away, but far enough so that Xander couldn't catch Spike looking at them. The table littered with remnants of club food and drinks. Xander smiled chewing the dozen of French fries he'd just shoved into his mouth and slid a hand over the table to hold Giant's freakishly large fist.   
  
Stupid git wanted to show Spike who was the big shot. Got himself a bloke to get back at him. Poor sod. He didn't know who he was playing with. Because going on a date in this teenybopper club and faking that dense loud laugh did nothing but add to Spike's pity. Nothing he did worked. Spike thought of telling him that. Put an end to his pathetic show.   
  
He'd be doing the lad a favor. Clearly, Lou Ferrigno there wanted an easy lay, someone insecure enough to put out. And who was more pathetic and vulnerable than Muttonhead?  
  
Spike's ear twitched as he eavesdropped on their conversation. Nothing better than hearing the boy being put down by someone else.  
  
"I think I'm getting a lot better at this whole waiter thing," Xander gleefully squealed in a loud, annoying, high-pitched voice.   
  
"Lowie seems to have warmed up to you," Rebound Boyfriend barked like a bulldog.   
  
"Get out."  
  
"No, seriously, last shift he's only complained about you twice."  
  
"That's an improvement all right."  
  
Spike reached for the cigarette pack in his pocket, flicked his lighter, lit a cigarette and took a drag. So, Xander was playing waiter boy in some restaurant. Well, wouldn't that be fun.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
The unicorn posters of doom stared him down, but that didn't scare Spike as much as Harmony getting it on with a poster of a curly haired singer from some boy band. Spike leaned against the wall and watched with interest as Harmony glided her body against the biggest poster he'd ever seen, kissing the lips on paper so hard she was going to tear a hole in it.   
  
When it came down to disturbing moans of pleasure, Spike thought he'd seen and heard enough, so he cleared his throat. He did it again and this time loudly.   
  
Harmony froze in place and then took a step back away from the poster; Spike could see a red lipstick stain on the spot where Teen Heartthrob's mouth was. With a slow dreadful motion, Harmony turned her appalled gaze to him. Spike smirked and waved.   
  
Anger took over mortified shock, and Harmony strode toward him with a glare on her pretty face. "What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
Spike said nothing, just smiled down at her.   
  
"Get out!" Harmony ordered, pointing at the door.   
  
"Aw, love, how I've missed…"  
  
"Cut it, Spike, you're not fooling me this time. Now get out."  
  
Spike took Harmony's hand and held it snugly in his, drawing her closer to him. "Would you like to have dinner with me, pet?" He cast her one of his most charming smiles, and spoke softly, "Guess where, mon petite crème brûlée."  
  
An adorable little wrinkle crinkled her brow. "French restaurant?"  
  
Spike lifted an eyebrow. "Last time you thought that was Italian."  
  
Harmony's face lit up with happiness. "We're going to an Italian restaurant?"   
  
She certainly grew a brain since the last time he'd seen her. "Course, love," Spike said in exaggerated affection. Now came the hard part, how to convince her to go out with him. "Now what shall I do to make…"  
  
"I'll go!"  
  
That was so easy.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
"Avanti Ristorante? Spike, you're such a romantic," Harmony chirped, tugging on his arm excitedly.  
  
"I am?" Spike said absentmindedly, searching for Xander.   
  
A smiling bloke in a tuxedo greeted them, but Spike could barely hear what he said, too busy skimming the restaurant looking for a certain shaggy-haired flop. Harmony kept bumping him with her elbow, but Spike dismissed her all together.   
  
Numerous black heads in matching outfits moved everywhere but none of them belonged to Xander. Those poofters all looked extremely alike with their commercial hair and blinding white-toothed smiles. Obviously, the only reason Xander landed the job was because he was sleeping with hulk chef. Big boyfriend probably threatened to sit on the boss or smother him to death.   
  
Slender fingers pulled his ear, and Spike ended up meeting angry blue eyes. "Who are you ogling?" Harmony demanded.   
  
Her sharp fingernails dug into his ear, making him wince. He swatted her hand away and scowled down at her.   
  
Harmony folded her arms over her chest and pouted. "You haven't looked at me twice since we left the crypt."   
  
He had to admit, he hadn't paid attention to her at all, and he should, if he wanted the night to go well. She was a vision; her hair pulled up in a twist with loose bangs swept across the front of her face, showing off her exposed shoulders and tight blue evening gown. She was the perfect bait to get Xander properly jealous.   
  
With a smug smirk, Spike offered his arm to Harmony. She looked taken aback, staring at his arm with hesitation before taking it. They followed the bloke in the tuxedo to a table for two where a waiter was waiting for them. Shiny black hair, shiny white teeth, definitely not Xander.   
  
Spike started searching the restaurant again, wondering if Xander took the night off. Probably spending it with his new rebound boyfriend, having the shag of his life in that malodorous basement of stink.   
  
Out of the blue, among the mass of perfect hair, came the blackish unruly mess that was Xander's nest, uh, hair. He moved around tables with less grace than his colleagues did and the tray he held was uncontrollably trembling in his hand.  
  
"Spike," Harmony snapped in annoyance, already seated on her chair. She nodded her head to the other chair the waiter pulled out for him.   
  
Spike looked at the bloke in the tux. "Is it possible to have another waiter?"  
  
The man frowned, looking unpleased with the suggestion. "Who do you have in mind?  
  
Spike gestured toward Xander, who almost dropped the glass of fresh orange juice on an elegant lady's dress.   
  
"Really?" the man sounded appalled.   
  
Spike smirked. "Really."  
  
The man looked suspicious so Spike tried to appear more sincere and innocent. Eventually, the man sighed. "All right. As you wish, sir." He snapped his fingers to the waiter indicating he should leave their table and walked toward Xander.  
  
"Spike, sit down," Harmony hissed behind him.   
  
Spike shook his head. "Not yet, love." He pushed the chair back to its place.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Spike could see Xander dashing toward them with a couple of large menus tucked under his armpits. "Hello, I'll be…" Xander's eyes bugged out and his mouth hung in shock, one of the menus slipped from under his arm, but he caught it before it fell. "Spike!"  
  
A smug smile curled the edges of Spike's lips. Operation Torment Xander stage one had just begun.   
  
Xander's brows drew together skeptically. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Xander Harris?" Harmony's eyes were as wide as Xander's. "This is the fanciest restaurant in Sunnydale, how could  _you_  be a waiter here?"  
  
Xander quickly dismissed Harmony with a look, turning to Spike. "Again, what are you doing here?"  
  
Spike's brows shot up and he tutted disapprovingly. "A waiter with an attitude. I'm rethinking your tip."  
  
Xander threw his head back and whined, "What have I done to deserve this?"  
  
Spike smirked crossing his arms over his chest. "Now. You gonna let me stand here all night?"  
  
Xander sighed, moving his feet reluctantly toward Spike's chair. He placed the menus on the table and pulled out the chair, standing next to it and waiting for Spike to sit down.  
  
Spike didn't move. "Say sorry."  
  
Xander blinked up at him at first and then dropped his gaze with a grimace. "Sorry."  
  
"Sorry who?"  
  
Xander rolled his eyes. "Sir."  
  
"Better." Spike sat gracefully on his chair, bringing out a pack of cigarettes.  
  
"You can't smoke here, sir," Xander said with a smirk.  
  
Spike arched an eyebrow, returning the pack into his pocket. "We'll have to work on your manners."  
  
Xander rolled his eyes again and then handed them both the menus. He poured some water in their glasses and added a thin slice of lime before Spike could decline. Not that he was going to drink that water. He was going to order some blood when Xander moved away, giving them space to decide what they wanted to eat.   
  
Harmony peered at him from her large menu, looking fiercely at him. "Why the hell did you ask for the dweeb?"  
  
Spike lowered his menu and smiled at her. "I promised you fun, pet. Didn't I?"  
  
Her eyebrow wrinkled slightly for a second and then a look of happy realization replaced the doubtful expression. "Oh, it’s gonna be so much fun," she squealed in a low voice.  
  
Spike smirked snapping his fingers together. Xander arrived with a small notebook and a pencil, his eyes not meeting Spike. "You're ready to order, sir?"  
  
Spike leaned back against his chair and regarded Xander with a refined stare and a raised chin. "Je veux une tomate et basilic pour les débutants." He tried hard not to laugh when Xander shot him a horrified look. "Et la pièce de résistance, je veux Filet Linguini Conseils."  
  
Spike turned to Harmony, and spoke affectionately, "Qu'est-ce que vous voulez manger, bébé?"  
  
Harmony's face was a mirror of confusion. "I don't speak Italian."  
  
Spike nodded. She was still as dense as the first day he met her. He turned a charming smile to Xander's direction. "La Miss veut spaghetti et sauce à la viande." He handed him the menus, and added, "et je voudrais voir votre carte des vins."  
  
Xander's face screamed pure hatred. "Spike, you know I didn't understand any of that."  
  
Spike let out an exaggerated gasp. "You work in an Italian restaurant and you don't speak the language."  
  
Xander narrowed his eyes. "Actually, that sounded more like French."  
  
 _Note to self: just because he looks thick doesn't mean he's brain-dead like little Harm there._    
  
"What do  _you_  know?" Little Harm said. "Loser who didn't get into college."  
  
"News flash, neither did you," Xander retorted.   
  
"I would've if I could still walk in daylight without getting a sunburn. What's your excuse?"  
  
Having no answer to that, Xander turned to Spike, looking desperate. "Spike, just tell me what you want in English."  
  
Spike handed him the menus again. "Here, I circled all our orders."  
  
Xander's eyes looked about to crumble out of their sockets. "You're not supposed to do that."  
  
"Oops?"  
  
Xander accepted the menus and muttered, "Asshole."  
  
Spike frowned. "What did you say?"  
  
"Yes, sir! I'll go get your orders." Xander turned around to flee and smacked against an older man. The man's eyes boiled with anger, and Xander bowed a few times apologetically. He started making his way to the kitchen instantly.   
  
"Ne pas oublier la carte des vins," Spike called after him.   
  
Xander turned around abruptly. "What?" He hit a table with his back due to his sudden move. The glasses on the table wobbled, and Xander steadied them too quickly, and some water slopped over the edges.   
  
"Wine menu," Spike explained in a matter-of-fact tone, pretending to be unaware of Xander's little dilemma.   
  
Xander glared at him over his shoulder. "Okay," he gritted out, wiping the large wet patch that spread out on the tablecloth, apologizing to the furious elderly couple.   
  
Spike knocked his fork to the floor, and called, "Oh, waiter."  
  
Xander spun around, his eyes shooting daggers.   
  
"I dropped my fork."  
  
Cursing under his breath, Xander strode toward Spike's table, clutching the menus angrily to his chest. He bent over to get the fork, his bum sticking up directly in Spike's face. Spike remembered when he'd spanked it to redness and wondered if anyone would notice him smacking it with his spoon. He glanced at Harmony, whose plucked eyebrow rose so high it reached her hairline.   
  
Xander smacked the fork roughly on Spike's side of the table, startling Spike. He gave Xander a look. "You don't expect me to eat from that. Get me a clean one."  
  
Xander had to restrain himself from exploding in Spike's face and said in a controlled pitch of voice, "Yes, sir."  
  
He practically ran away before Spike could say anything to humiliate him again. Spike was impressed with the way he maneuvered around people and tables without smacking against anything on the way.   
  
He leaned back in his chair, not liking the look Harmony was giving him. Her eyebrows were creased in a puzzled frown. "Were you just ogling Xander's ass?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your eyes on Xander's floppy ass." Harmony shuddered, hugging herself. "So disturbing."  
  
"Why would I look at his stupid bum?" Spike said defensively, letting out a low growl.   
  
She glared at him. "Beats me."  
  
Spike fidgeted in his seat and scowled. "Stop the nonsense talk and focus on getting him fired. Do some of the thinking for a change."  
  
Harmony pursed her lips. "What did you order for me?"  
  
"Spaghetti."  
  
Harmony cocked her head and contracted her eyebrows, wearing a thoughtful expression. Her face lit up with an idea. "We could eat it like  _Lady and the Tramp_."  
  
Spike tightened his lips incredulously. "Those animated mutts?"  
  
She flashed him a wide grin. "You know the movie?"  
  
"No. I don't. No," he stammered, shaking his head several times.   
  
Harmony was still grinning. "So?"  
  
"Not bloody likely."  
  
She pouted. "You're no fun." She started playing with her fork and looked at him from under thick lashes, going for innocent and cute in an attempt to appeal to him. "We could really mess up the table."  
  
"A table filled with stain won't get him sacked."  
  
Harmony tossed the fork on the table and blew on a lock of hair that fell on her forehead in frustration. An invisible lamp turned on above her head and she stuffed a hand into her purse, bringing out a small object. "Maybe this will."  
  
Spike narrowed his eyes at the joint in her hand. He cocked an eyebrow, impressed. "Harmony… eh," he trailed off, trying to remember her last name.   
  
"Kendall," Harmony finished for him, looking slightly hurt.   
  
Spike shrugged. "Didn't know you had it in you, pet."  
  
Harmony perked up, smiling smugly. "I'm a vampire now, Spike. Smoking weed is like nothing."  
  
"So, did you…"  
  
"Not yet," Harmony answered a bit too quickly. "But I will. First thing tomorrow." She nodded in determination.   
  
Before Spike could reply, a small menu appeared out of nowhere right in front of his face.   
  
"Here's the wine list," Xander said urgently. "Do you, uh, want anything else?"  
  
"Show us your behind," Harmon said, shooing him with her hand.   
  
When Xander turned away, Harmony threw the joint on th;e floor. "Oh, Dweeby, you dropped something."   
  
Xander looked at her confused and then stared at the floor. Harmony didn't give him time to comprehend what was going on when she yelped, "Oh my God, is that marijuana?"  
  
Xander's eyes went wide with fear. "What?"  
  
Bloke in the tux pushed against waiters, rushing to the scene of crime. He looked at Harmony with a troubled expression on his face. "Is something wrong?" She pointed to the floor, and the man's eyeballs almost bugged out of his head. "What's this?"  
  
Harmony turned her pointed finger to Xander. "He dropped it."  
  
Tuxedo Bloke looked so angry he could spit nails. Xander shook his head fiercely. "What? No!"  
  
"He did," Harmony said and then turned to Spike with a sweet smile curling up her lips. "Right, honey?"  
  
Spike looked at Xander's shell-shocked face and the way his jaw tensed visibly. "Uh, no, it's mine," Spike blurted out, hearing Xander's raging heartbeat beginning to slow. "I, uh, dropped it." He leaned to pick the joint up.   
  
The man shook his head disapprovingly. "Sir, this restaurant has a reputation. We don't condone such activities." He shot Harmony a heated stare. "Kindly leave our premises."   
  
Spike nodded, glancing at Xander who still looked shaken up. He took Harmony's hand and dragged her resisting body behind him, his ears catching the man's furious speech to Xander about his incompetence and mess-ups. A detestable voice sounded from behind him, and Spike looked over his shoulder as Xander's boyfriend came to his rescue. Spike grimaced and hurried out of the restaurant.   
  
Boyfriend would be seen as the hero, and Xander would obviously bend over to show his thanks, forgetting completely who the real hero here was.   
  
Harmony jerked her hand away from his grip angrily. "What the hell, Spike?"  
  
Spike turned around and threw his hands in the air. "Wanted a joint. Got a problem with that?"  
  
She stared at him closely, her expression unreadable. "I died in high school, Spike. I know when somebody steals my guy's attention." She turned on her heels and left him standing in the middle of the street, holding the joint.   
  
He looked at her retreating body, baffled.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
The silly bint shouldn't be implying what he thought she was implying. Where did she get off thinking  _Spike_  fancied… no, he couldn't even finish that repulsive thought. She was just upset he didn't go through with her plan. Spike really didn't want to get Xander fired. If Xander didn't have an income, who would Spike steal from? Besides, getting the sod booted meant no more taking the piss out of him in that bloody restaurant. Though Spike doubted they'd ever let him in after what happened last night.   
  
"I think you're being a little oversensitive, Buff."  
  
Spike stopped dead in his tracks and looked warily around the still trees. That sounded like Xander. And it was very close. Now, Harmony would think Spike was stalking the wanker. Well,  _Harmony_  wasn't around.   
  
"I'm oversensitive?" That was the Slayer. Spike moved slowly and quietly toward the direction of the voice. He knelt behind a bush and peered at Xander and his chums standing quite close to Spike's crypt and chatting. Xander was wearing his restaurant uniform, which meant he just got off work or he was going there later. It didn't look wise to go patrolling in it, though. Man in tuxedo would probably have a fit.   
  
Spike turned his gaze to the others. Willow appeared distressed, her lips twitched as if she wanted to say something but thought against it. And Buffy looked really pissed off. Like she wanted to punch something at full throttle; well, she should forget about using Spike as her punching-vamp for the night. Last week's pummel was a one night thing, and Spike learned to never "boo" a Slayer on a hunt, especially during the time she just failed a poetry exam. Also, never add salt to the injury by bragging about poetry knowledge to a pissed off Slayer  _after_  being beaten to a pulp.   
  
Buffy took two angry steps toward Xander, crossing her arms with her stake sticking out from under her armpit. "When someone tells me I have man-arms I tend to get violent, but since he's your boyfriend…"  
  
"Well, getting violent would actually prove his point," Xander interrupted unwisely.   
  
Spike winced when Buffy punched him in the arm. "Ouch!" Xander yelped, rubbing his arm and scowling at Buffy. That wasn't bad, wuss. Try taking one of the punches Spike had received from her over the past three years.   
  
"And he's turning you into a jerk, too," Buffy said irately.   
  
"He's not."  
  
"Yeah, Xander," Willow said in a soft timid voice, deciding to talk after all. "I love you and I'm glad you found someone, but could you… I don't know, tell him to shove it." Spike arched his brows impressively at her choice of words. "It's like you're dating a meaner version of Cordelia."  
  
"And Anya," Buffy added.   
  
"Yeah, it looks like a pattern. Can't you date someone who's not rude for a change?"  
  
Xander threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "Okay, I've heard enough. I gotta run to the restaurant anyway. My shift is about to start."   
  
He stormed off, leaving the girls calling after him and apologizing. So, best friends weren't very fond of giant boyfriend. That was a plus.   
  
Spike started to crawl after Xander, but the end of his duster got stuck in the bush. He cursed under his breath and pulled on it urgently, causing a loud rustling sound that got the girls' attention.  
  
"Who's there?" Buffy demanded, assuming a fighting stance. Willow inched closer to her, her brows furrowing in worry.   
  
Spike rolled his eyes in frustration. These chits were going to stall him. He shot up to his feet and walked out of the bushes with poise. "What do we have here? The Slayer and her lackey."  
  
"I prefer friend," Willow said, relaxing a little when she saw him. Wasn't that degrading?   
  
"You're in my territory, Slayer. Uninvited." He reached for his lighter and pack of cigarettes.   
  
"You've no territory, Spike, and that crypt of yours? I can just walk in and tear it down until there's nothing left to use. Can you do the same with my house?"  
  
Spike flicked the lighter, but the reddish orange flame was nowhere near the cigarette. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Could put it on fire."  
  
"Can't," Buffy said, putting her hands on her hips with a satisfied smirk on her lips. "My mom is inside, and that will give you a headache."  
  
Spike bit on the cigarette in his mouth so hard it was about to break in half. He spit it out and brought out another one, busying himself with lighting it so he would not look into the Slayer's pleased expression. "Say, why did the other one leave in a huff?"  
  
"Don't change the subject. In fact, there's no subject to change because there was no subject to begin with." She paused for a second reflecting on the nonsense she just said. Spike and Willow shared confused stares.   
  
Buffy stomped her foot on the ground. "Yeah, what I said." She nodded for her friend to follow her. "C'mon, Will."  
  
Spike blew out the smoke in rings. "Just saying, you could barely keep the couple of friends you have. Maybe it's better not to piss them all off."  
  
Buffy turned around and glared at him. "At least I have friends."  
  
"Hey, I do have friends," Spike said defensively.   
  
Buffy stopped walking and crossed her arms. "Who? Your fag?"  
  
Willow looked at Buffy, troubled. "Buffy, that's inappropriate."  
  
"What? I meant his cigarette."  
  
"Well, he is a fag. The other meaning." Spike took a drag of his cigarette as he watched their eyes widening in disbelief.   
  
Buffy scoffed. "In what planet?"   
  
"We were basement mates, right?" Spike said, tossing his cigarette to the ground before jamming it with his boot. "And he did introduce me to his new flame."  
  
"You met Dana?" Willow asked, surprised.   
  
"Size-large chef with a mouth you'd wish to put a sock in?"  
  
Buffy and Willow nodded.   
  
Spike tried a friendly smile, but couldn't really manage it, so he decided to smoke another cigarette. "I share your feelings. He's certainly not good for Xander."  
  
Buffy frowned. "We didn't…"  
  
Spike shook his head sorrowfully as he lit the cigarette. "Just think of the bollocks Xander has to put up with. That git winding him up. Putting him down."  
  
Willow's eyebrows scrunched thoughtfully. "Well, Xander never complained…"  
  
"Why would he?" Spike cut her off with a head tilt. "He's too desperate to be with someone that he doesn't care if he's being slagged off."   
  
Buffy and Willow shared a worried look before Buffy said, "I don't know, he seems… happy with him, regardless of his manners."  
  
Willow nodded. "Yeah, if Xander is happy, then we're happy."  
  
Spike looked between them incredulously. "Are you two bloody thick? Are you seriously considering letting your friend settle for that abusive bully?"   
  
Buffy cocked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you pressing so hard on the subject?"  
  
Spike blinked. "What?"  
  
Willow frowned. "Yeah, it's like you want to break them up."  
  
Buffy folded her arms over her chest again. "What's in it for you?"  
  
Spike felt the cigarette in his mouth slipping and caught it with his fingers. He returned it back to his mouth and pretended not to be caught off guard. "Nothing, I just… I just think Xander deserves someone better."  
  
Willow narrowed her eyes, studying him intently. "Someone like… you?"  
  
Buffy smacked her arm. "Willow!"  
  
This time Spike's cigarette met the ground as his mouth hung in shock. "Yes, Willow!" he exclaimed.   
  
Buffy's nose crinkled in abhorrence. "That's a disgusting assumption. There's no way Xander is looking twice at Spike."  
  
Spike gave a wounded look. "Why not?"  
  
Both girls gasped.   
  
Buffy pointed a shaking finger. "You love Drusilla. You're not gay."  
  
Spike scowled. "I didn't…"  
  
Willow turned to Buffy. "Well, technically, Xander dated Cordelia and Anya, so…"  
  
He turned his scowl to Willow. "I resent…"  
  
Buffy nodded. "And Drusilla obviously falls into the category of girls who are hard to get."  
  
Spike's eyes flared yellow. "I got her. I got Dru."  
  
Buffy turned to him with a know-it-all gaze. "Yeah, but she's always been more interested in Angel, and she left you for some disgusting slimy demon, which means you've never had a shot with her."  
  
Spike's mouth hung in disbelief, and Buffy smiled smugly, happy that she'd gotten her point across.   
  
Willow had an amused smile on her lips. "Spike, you really like Xander?"  
  
Spike scoffed, waving Willow off. "Don't be silly."  
  
Buffy's lips twisted into a grimace. "I gotta say, that's too... icky."  
  
Spike clenched his hands, turning them into fists as tension built up throughout his body.   
  
Buffy and Willow looked at him expectantly.   
  
He shook in anger, feeling his insides boiling and his face heating, and eventually, the volcano exploded. "I don't give a piss about bloody Xander! Never did. Never will. Now excuse me, I'm going home." He turned around; his lips pursed in anger, and marched out of the cemetery.   
  
"Uh, Spike…" Willow's unsure voice came from behind him. "Your crypt is… uh…"  
  
  
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
Everybody stared at the black limo that stopped in front of the restaurant. Their eyes reflected different emotions that varied between admiration and jealousy; everybody wanted a limo. They wanted the fancy, the glittering glory and glossy fame, thinking all that would make them feel good about themselves. The less talented whored themselves to the rich and famous, believing it would make them rank higher on the list. No one with their right mind wanted the outcasts or the less fortunate or the disabled. Something Spike had known forever, but never been drilled into his head until now.   
  
He watched through the dancing smoke of his cigarette as the chubby driver opened the door to a fine looking lady and a stuck up looking man. The posh gits puffed up their feathers at the eyes that gawped at them from every corner and swaggered to the restaurant where they were greeted with enthusiasm and exaggerated respect.   
  
Spike used to be them. He'd had it all, and then he'd lost everything. Now he was nothing. The only people he could shag now were the likes of Xander Harris and Harmony… eh, whatever. He'd really sunk low. What would Drusilla say about him? Sneaking into a restaurant to see the whiny little poof; would he even be allowed in? Perhaps he could wear something different. Maybe lose the duster. They wouldn't recognize him.   
  
Loud shrieks drifted from the back of the restaurant capturing Spike's attention. He stared at the direction of the noise with a frown before he threw the cigarette to the ground, not bothering to put it out, and made his way to the back of the building.   
  
The shrieks sounded like a man yelling furiously. Peeking, Spike saw a man in a tuxedo, not the same git from yesterday. He was shouting at Xander's hulk of a boyfriend, and did he just threaten to fire him?  
  
Xander stepped out of nowhere and stood between the man and the hulk, trying to calm the man down. "Mr. Howard, I know you're upset."  
  
"Upset?" the man roared. "I'm furious!"  
  
Spike bit his lower lip, wondering what the hell was going on. His gaze shifted to the boyfriend, and Spike froze when he noticed him looking right at him. Spike withdrew abruptly and hid behind the wall, his eyes wide with panic. Did the wanker see him? Would he tell Xander that Spike was stalking him? Spike glanced warily to his right, picturing the wanker popping from behind the wall and giving him the beating of his life.   
  
He tried to listen to the conversation when he heard a door slam shut. Silence took over, and Spike thought that everybody had gone into the building until he heard Xander's sigh of relief.   
  
"Well, that went well," Xander said, reassured.   
  
There was a movement, and then Spike heard something that sounded like a person being pushed away. "Don't ever do that again," the boyfriend said, his voice dripping with irritation.   
  
"What?" Xander's confused voice echoed in Spike's ears.   
  
"Saving me. I don't need anyone's help. I can take care of myself."  
  
"But… but you always rush in to save me when I'm in trouble. Why can't I do the same?"  
  
There was a pause. "Because." Then sounds of bulky feet stomping angrily.   
  
"Because what?" Xander snapped, making the bulky feet stop. "I thought we were in a relationship. Equal relationship."  
  
Spike heard nothing after that except for Xander's breath rising up and down, and then a door closed. The boyfriend must have gone inside.   
  
Spike carefully peeked again to find Xander standing alone, his shoulders slumped and his head bowed sadly. Something inside Spike tugged, mutual feelings of inferiority and degradation ran through him. Big boy looked down on Xander, just like the world looked down on Spike. His knuckles turned white from the tight grasp on the wall. He wanted to make his presence known, say something to Xander and tell him that he understood. That Xander wasn't alone.   
  
"Xander, get back to work immediately!" the bloke from yesterday yelled from inside the restaurant.   
  
"Sorry, Lowie!" Xander replied, hurrying inside.   
  
Spike heaved a disappointed sigh. Missed opportunity.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
Spike pushed the door to his crypt open, dragging his feet inside. He couldn't get the picture of Xander standing alone in the dark out of his head. Something inside was still squeezing at that image. He hated it. It cut him up inside. He also hated that it was affecting him so much. He didn't care. He shouldn't. There was nothing about Xander that made him worthy of Spike. He wasn't Cecily or Drusilla, high status women with power and beauty that added more to their charm. Xander was some bland teenage mess that lived in a dank basement and ineptly served high status people. He wasn't even much of an assist in Buffy's group of heroes, unless getting in the way counted. And yet, he made Spike's undead heart wrench obnoxiously.   
  
Spike looked up with a sigh. And then froze.  
  
Harmony was sitting in the middle of the crypt, stroking a white cat in her lap. He should have guessed something was off when he smelt that sharp scent of perfume.   
  
He opened his mouth to ask an obvious question but smacked it shut when Harmony held up her hand with a determined expression on her doll-like face.   
  
"I just wanted to make sure it was just a nightmare." She put the cat down and stood up, looking at Spike. Her ruby lips twitched slightly, and she appeared more fragile now. "You don't really have the hots for…" She crinkled her nose as if she caught a whiff of something. "Urgh, I can't even finish the sentence." She looked at him, her blue eyes brimming with desperation. "Do you?"  
  
Spike stared at her silently, not sure what to say.  
  
Harmony started approaching him. "I mean, you can't be that cruel, Spike." She looked up into his eyes and he could see glitters of tears in hers. "I can put up with you degrading me and putting me down. I can put up with your disrespect and…"  
  
"Disrespect?" Spike found himself whispering, his thoughts going somewhere else.   
  
"Yeah, but I can't take you preferring that loser over me. That's just… too cruel."   
  
Spike's heart swelled as he remembered some days ago. He and Xander were lying in Xander's bed after stopping yet another apocalypse. Spike's arms were folded behind his head, and Xander was looking at him with a variety of emotions clouding his face, hurt and anger dominated.   
  
 _"What? I'm not good enough or something?"  
  
"Would have sex with you if I top, other than that, forget it."_  
  
"Bollocks," Spike whispered, remembering how Xander tried to push him out of the bed, upset and humiliated.   
  
"Yes, that's how I feel. I feel like bollocks," Harmony said. "That sounds funny in your language."   
  
Spike looked at everything in the room, but Harmony. His ears stung with cruel words he told Xander and he just needed to get out of here. Get away. Do something to make it right.   
  
 _"You think I'll let a lousy human shove their cock in my arse? Not bloody likely."_  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
A soft smirk played on Spike's lips when he heard the basement door crack open. He'd waited here for hours, and the silence almost made him drift to sleep, but the thought of Xander coming back any minute now chased sleep away. He could see Xander's legs walking down the stairs through the railings, and his toes started to curl with anticipation. He swallowed, thinking that if his heart could beat it would be pounding out of his chest.   
  
Xander placed a duck shaped foil shell on his desk and started taking off his uniform, still unaware of his presence. The advantages of not having to breathe. Spike licked his lips when Xander's muscled upper arms came to sight, wondering when they became so buff. He noticed how Xander's fingers stopped working on his jeans all of a sudden.   
  
He looked up at Spike and made a startled jump backward, his eyes as wide as saucers. "What the…?" he exclaimed, unable to finish that question.   
  
Spike's hands tugged on the handcuffs that were binding him to the bed. He wiggled his naked body on the cold sheets to get more comfortable. "Hey, wanna tap this?" he said seductively.   
  
Xander raised his eyebrows.  
  
Spike bit his lip bashfully. "Or something like that?"  
  
Xander glared at him, looking more pissed off than Spike ever saw him. "Are you trying to be funny? Or did that chip fry your brain?"   
  
Spike blinked.  
  
"I have a boyfriend. You've met him."   
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Yeah, the arsehole that has no respect for others. Goes by the phrase treat them mean, keep them keen."  
  
Xander's expression stiffened for a moment, and a muscle in his jaw worked. "Yeah, 'cause you're a real prince."  
  
Spike held up his chin confidently. "I am. I saved you last night."  
  
A low incredulous chuckle rumbled out of Xander's lips. "You  _saved_  me?"  
  
"From getting fired. I claimed that joint was mine."  
  
"Yeah, I owe you thanks after coming to the restaurant for the sole purpose of humiliating and harassing me," Xander said sarcastically. "Thank you, Spike. Thank you for almost costing me my job."  
  
Something inside Spike hurt unexpectedly. He pushed those feelings aside and focused on being rightfully defensive. "What's your problem? I got thrown out of there for you."  
  
Xander crossed his muscled arms over his chest and his face gave the impression that he was humoring Spike. "And I'm supposed to what? Applaud you?"  
  
"Fuck me," Spike said, though feeling less confident now. A weak smile cracked his lips, and the pitch of his voice was low with anxiety, "It's what you wanted. To be on top."  
  
Xander shook his head with sickened shock. "You're completely out of your brain. No, you don't have a brain. You're a brainless, psycho pig."  
  
Spike clenched his teeth. "If you say that again, I'll…"  
  
"What makes you think I'm gonna throw away a great relationship with a great  _human_ guy to sleep with  _you_? Been there. Done that. Still mending the scars."  
  
Sodding hell, his words shouldn't hurt this bad. Spike's lips were a thin line, ignoring Xander's harsh insults. "It's not so great, is it?" he said calmly.   
  
"What?"  
  
"You and him," Spike said. "He thinks he's better than you."  
  
Lines of anger crept along Xander's face. "No, he doesn't."  
  
"Does he let you top?" Spike wiggled on bed again, crackling the handcuffs against each other and looked from under his lashes seductively. "'Cause I will."  
  
He could see rage smoldering in Xander's eyes, boiling just beneath the surface. Xander's hands closed into shaking fists and Spike thought he'd end up with a purple eye. Instead, Xander flipped him the bird and barked, "Screw you, Spike."   
  
Spike watched with a half-opened mouth as Xander put on his shirt in haste, snatched the foil and stormed up the stairs. Spike pulled on the handcuffs frantically. "Hey, you're not gonna leave me here like this."  
  
Xander's answer was slamming the door shut behind him, causing one of the pipes to burst open and water shooting down to the floor.  
  
Spike groaned. "Bugger."  
  
  


~*~*~*~

 


	5. Boyfriend Vs Vampire

  
  


  
**Lovable Losers**

 

**Chapter Five: Boyfriend Vs Vampire**   


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Dana didn't look surprised at all to see Xander sitting in front of his apartment door with a duck-shaped tin-foil doggie bag on his lap. The second Xander spotted Dana; he jumped to his feet, which was a bad move on his part. Not only did he have a head rush, but his right leg was completely asleep that he lost balance and watched as his face was about to meet the floor.   
  
His face didn't meet the floor.  
  
Dana's strong arm crossed over his chest and pushed him up. Xander looked up into the gray eyes that reflected sorrow and regret. His breath was caught as he was lost in their depth, cutting through him, unable to look away.   
  
Xander blinked out of his stupor and pushed Dana's arm away gently. He limped back a step and smiled faintly. Dana returned his smile, and they both looked at the duck-shaped foils in their hands and chuckled.   
  
Xander smiled up at Dana. "You wanna… uh, eat?"  
  
Dana nodded. "Sure."  
  
As Xander turned to the door, he felt Dana's hand grabbing his arm. "Xander?"  
  
Xander looked at the floor. "Hmm?"  
  
"I didn't mean to yell at you. I was out of line. I'm sorry."  
  
Xander looked back at him, his heart raced at the honest regret that clouded Dana's expression. He took a step forward, standing face to face with Dana, and then leaned up to plant his lips on his. Dana held him close and kissed back, his arms tightening around him joyfully.   
  
Xander smiled through the kiss. Everything was going to be all right.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
_Not so much._  
  
"You didn’t answer my question," Xander said with a hint of irritation, holding the covers so tight his knuckles began to ache. They hadn't eaten the leftovers. That kiss in the hallway turned into passionate love-making, one where Dana gave all the love. Now it was time for Xander to return the favor, if Dana wasn't such a bolshie pinhead.   
  
Dana sighed in annoyance and pulled the covers over himself.   
  
Xander yanked the covers away from his face and glared down at his tightly shut eyes. "Why don't you want me to do you?"  
  
Dana's lips were a tense thin line and he scooted to the edge of the bed, giving him his back.  
  
The air in the room seemed to grow measurably thicker, and a painful lump caught in Xander's throat. "Why is it so difficult? Do I disgust you?"  
  
"I never said that," Dana's reply was muffled by the pillow.   
  
"The last guy I've been with was," Xander said.   
  
Dana suddenly jolted up on the bed and looked at him with heated eyes. "I'm not that guy. You know I'm not."  
  
Xander stared back at Dana's eyes, a little surprised to see them flaring with hurt at the comparison. That hurt, though, didn't come close to how Xander felt at the moment. "To be honest," he said tightly. "I don't see much of a difference."  
  
Xander jumped out of bed and didn't take much time finding his clothes in Dana's extremely clean apartment. He pulled on his boxers and then his pants in a hurry. He didn't bother buttoning his shirt as he walked to the door.  
  
"Xander."  
  
His hand froze on the doorknob and his heart started beating with hope. He turned around to look at Dana, who held up his leftover dinner.   
  
"Your duck," the idiot said simply.   
  
Xander shook angrily before exploding in rage and stormed out of the apartment.   
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Buffy and Willow weren't in their dorm room, and Xander had no patience to go around UC Sunnydale's enormous campus looking for them. They were probably still in the cemetery, getting their slay on. He climbed the stairs to Giles' place and hoped his friends weren't having a Scooby meeting without him or that would be the last straw.  
  
Pushing Giles' door open, Xander stopped walking at once, his leg frozen in the air with his foot hanging a couple of inches above the floor.   
  
Lilac scented candles filled the apartment immersing it with a golden glow. Rose petals were scattered on the floor, spread into a trail leading to the stairs. A familiar feminine laugh drifted from the bedroom sending shudders of dread down Xander's spine.  
  
He shook his head slowly. "This can't be real," he whispered in a haunted voice.  
  
The bedroom's door swung open, and Xander's heart dropped to his guts. Anya sauntered out of the bedroom in a maroon bathrobe with a fulfilled expression on her face, singing _Let's Talk about Sex_.   
  
"Anya," Xander exclaimed.  
  
Anya gasped, her hand smacking her chest. Giles's head popped out of the bedroom, looking at Xander with wide eyes.  
  
The sight of Giles' messy hair made Xander whisper, "I thought you hated roses after Jenny's death."  
  
Giles cleared his throat. "Uh, Anya insisted that the past should be, uh, put behind."  
  
Anya nodded. "All that matters is the future." She smiled at Giles lovingly. "And he's my future."  
  
Giles smiled back awkwardly.   
  
Xander shook angrily before exploding in rage and stormed out of the apartment.  
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
The Bronze was too crowded tonight. Must be Friday. Not being a student anymore made him unaware of the days. Not to mention, he usually got fired before Sunday, so he'd rarely got to feel the thrill of a day off. Would that be why he didn't find his friends in their dorm room? They'd probably headed to a frat party after a hard night of slaying and didn't mention it to him so that Dana wouldn't crush their self-esteem with his indecorous comments.  
  
A man finally left a chair at the bar and Xander leapt to it like Giles on a jelly. He slammed against the counter, his forehead thumbing on the surface. He smacked his forehead again for thinking about Giles after the incident in his apartment that shall remain nameless.  
  
He waited for the waiter to pay him some attention –though he could sympathize with all these crudely demanding people. He'd been a bartender once after all. Besides, he couldn't stop thinking about what happened with Dana. He shouldn't be surprised, Dana had always acted like the alpha male, and then there was the whole bragging about tearing his exes' holes and the fact that no one ever screwed him. Dana had admitted from the beginning that he always dominated, so Xander had no right to be upset now. Still, he couldn't be in an unequal relationship, he just couldn't. But… but Dana really liked him. He'd showed that on multiple occasions. They'd been dating for almost a week, and Xander hadn't felt this happy for a long time. Why couldn't it be perfect? Why must there be a catch in everything?   
  
Fingers snapped in front of him, and Xander's startled eyes met the waiter's. Blinking his thoughts away, Xander tried to pull a confident face. "Can I have a beer?"   
  
"Can I have an ID?" the man said, straight-faced.   
  
Xander knew better than to argue. He sighed. "Gimme a soda."  
  
The waiter's satisfied nod irritated him. How come eighteen wasn't the legal age to drink beer when it was the legal age to vote? He didn't care about who ruled the United States, all he cared about was losing himself in the comfort of an alcoholic beverage.   
  
"I can get you that beer if you want," a husky voice whispered in his ear.   
  
Xander gritted his teeth. "What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
Spike leaned against the bar, resting on it with his elbow. He was a mess: his clothes all wet and his face bruised. And he looked like he wanted to gnash Xander's teeth. Xander squirmed under Spike's hard gaze, recalling the state he left him in the basement.  
  
"Well, let's see," Spike began. "First, you caused a flood and I had to keep my fine bum from getting wet. And then I had to endure twenty minutes of your father slagging me off – he's not exactly pleased with finding a nude man handcuffed to your bed…"  
  
Xander whimpered and thumbed his head against the counter again. This time his forehead hit an abandoned slice of lemon.   
  
"Then he flogged me and kicked my bum across the yard. Unfortunately, a couple of regulars at Willy's Place happened to pass by and witness my humiliation. As if I wasn't already the laughing stock of the demon community."   
  
Xander's nose rubbed against the counter as he half-listened to Spike and half –mostly- listened to his panicking mind. His father saw Spike naked on his bed. Xander caused a flood. His father  _SAW_  Spike naked on his bed. Naked man-flesh handcuffed to  _Xander's_ bed.   
  
Xander abruptly sat up, the slice of lemon sticking on his forehead slipped to the floor. "I can't go home now," he said, realization hitting him hard. His father would  _kill_  him especially since he was late on the rent.   
  
"Serves you right," Spike spit out. "Shouldn't have rejected my offer. Not sure how you possibly resisted the nudity perfection."  
  
"God, that image." Xander grimaced in disgust. "Makes me wanna wash my eyes out with borax."   
  
Spike's jaw muscles tightened. "Didn't complain much last time," he mumbled defensively.  
  
Xander stared at Spike, trying to figure out what the hell he was playing at. Last time, Spike made it absolutely clear that Xander was the last person he wanted to screw, and he wouldn't have thought about it if he had other options. Why was Spike so fixated on sleeping with him again? And he didn't mind Xander topping this time. What was going on inside that bleached head?   
  
Xander blinked out of his thoughts when Spike handed him a glass of beer. He looked at Spike suspiciously, and Spike nodded at the beer in his hand. Xander pushed the glass away. "I'm not sleeping with you, Spike," he said.  
  
Spike frowned in confusion.   
  
"That was the mistake of my life," Xander declared, taken aback by the flash of hurt that passed Spike's face. "And that's not all. I can't cheat on my significant other. Did it twice. Never again."  
  
Spike stared at him for a moment and then nodded, leaning back against the counter again and dirking his beer. Xander looked away, noticing his soda which sat there untouched. He looked between it and the glass of beer Spike had bought for him. His hand slipped up on the counter and reached for the beer, Xander kept his gaze on it, not daring to glance at Spike.  
  
This wasn't the first time he drank beer. He'd always been curious, watching his parents devour every alcoholic beverage they could afford. The taste was too awful when he was ten, all right when he was fourteen, and not so bad when he was sixteen. Right now, it was just what he needed.   
  
"You're going back to his flat?" Spike asked all of a sudden, nodding to the waiter for a refill.   
  
Xander glanced at him and then shook his head. "No."  
  
Spike crossed his arms, leaning his back against the counter. "Where will you spend the night?"  
  
Xander sighed. "I don't know." He took another swallow from his beer, watching out of the corner of his eye the waiter who demanded his ID, glaring at him. Xander wanted to stick out his tongue but feared the man would make a scene or worse ban him from the Bronze.   
  
"You know, my crypt is open," Spike suggested, drinking a second glass of beer.   
  
Xander threw him a look. "No way."  
  
"Don't be such a ninny. You've nowhere else to go."   
  
"Spike, I'm not sleeping anywhere where you can weasel your way into my pants."  
  
"Hey, I can't force you to do anything you don't want. Chip, remember?" Spike placed his glass on the counter and then smirked at Xander. "Unless you do fancy another shag."  
  
Xander narrowed his eyes. "No."  
  
"Then what's your problem?"  
  
Xander narrowed his eyes more, having a staring match with Spike, which he lost. He released a defeated sigh. He had nowhere else to go and couldn't afford the smallest room in the smallest inn in Sunnydale. Guess he had to suck it up and accept Spike's offer, and keep his guard up all night. Spike might act civil, but he was a mischievous, manipulative evil vampire. Xander was obviously in for a night of unpleasant surprises.   
  
He groaned.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Spike shot Xander a scornful stare as the idiot scurried behind him to the cemetery, trying to keep a distance between them. He'd hold in a snicker at the way Xander would jump whenever he stopped to light a cigarette or put it out. There was also the silence. From the few weeks he'd known him, Xander struck him as someone who waffled on about anything –even when he was nervous- so the lack of yakking was something to be measured. Unless the twit thought that Spike would jump him in the sidewalk, which was extreme and damaging to Spike's already ruined reputation, what the hell was he afraid of? Spike couldn't hurt him, and Xander had rubbed that fact in Spike's face any chance he got.   
  
So, what was it? Did he fear his rotten boyfriend would catch him strolling in the moonlit night with a handsome vampire? The wanker was more of a "fist first, ask questions later" kind of git. Still, Spike doubted that Bland Chef would even consider looking for Xander in the cemeteries.   
  
And how appalling it was that Xander's anxiety got on his nerves instead of filling him with pride. Since when did he care about Xander's sodding feelings and worries? He should be pleased he still evoked negative emotions in someone. Especially someone who knew he was unable to hurt him.   
  
Spike grunted and pushed the metal door creaking it open. He sniffed the air, making sure Harmony wasn't around. She'd dust herself dead if she saw him back home with the dweeb – on second thoughts. He waited for Xander to walk in before closing the door, rolling his eyes when Xander flinched as their shoulders rubbed against each other.   
  
Xander couldn't wait for Spike to open the other door for him, so he did it himself, almost knocking down the wooden door. He stopped at the door, not daring take a step inside. Spike arched an eyebrow at Xander's narrowed eyes that examined every inch of the crypt.   
  
Noticing Spike's look, Xander explained, "Just checking if I'd recognize anything that belongs to my basement."   
  
Spike scoffed. "Hardly." He walked toward the table next to the TV and picked up a bottle of whiskey and as he was about to drink straight from the bottle he paused a second, thinking about asking Xander if he wanted some. He mentally sneered at the idea and rubbed his tonsils with real alcohol. That weeble bollocks he drank at the Bronze was more suitable for a ponce like Xander.   
  
"Nice place, Spike," the ponce commented as he finally mustered the courage to walk further into the crypt. "I especially like the odd and unmatching furniture. Gives the place a touch of dump."  
  
Spike stopped drinking and wiped his lips with the back of his hand, frowning at Xander. "You're the one to talk. That blinding red chair clashing with your blinding colored shirts scattered everywhere." He took a long swallow before he tossed the empty bottle to the floor joining its friends.   
  
"Speaking of scattered, all these empty liquor bottles on the floor, it's like I haven't left home."   
  
Spike looked around at the mess of broken bottles all over his crypt and turned his attention to one smug looking Xander. "Wanna go back?" he asked, petulant.   
  
Xander's body stiffened and his eyes widened in horror. He shook his head so fast his mess of a hair bounced everywhere. "I'll behave." He flashed Spike one of his daft grins that made Spike wonder when the sod started loosening up. He acted more at ease now than he did outside, which was odd considering that he was alone with Spike inside a burial chamber where no one could see them.   
  
Perhaps the key word was  _see_ , Xander didn't want to be seen with Spike. It wasn't just the chef, but also Xander's chums. He didn't want his mates witnessing him tagging along with a former mass-murdering currently pathetic excuse of a vampire? How shameful and humiliating it was.   
  
Spike's jaw set in a firm line at that thought. He turned away so that he wouldn't vomit the Whiskey looking at Xander's revolting smile. He stared at the ladder leading to his bedroom, knowing that a few seconds from now Xander's smile would vanish completely. "So, I've only got one bed downstairs."  
  
"Not gonna happen."  
  
Spike smiled briefly despite himself and then turned to find Xander's horrified yet determined expression intact. "Did I say anything?"  
  
Xander shook his head. "Doesn't need to be said, Spike." He lifted a finger. "One bed. Will not sleep on it."  
  
Spike shrugged. "Got a better idea?"  
  
Xander looked around the crypt, searching for a couch or something he could sleep on. A small smile of triumph rose to his lips. "I'll sleep on a coffin."  
  
Spike snorted derisively. "You sure about that, mate? It'll be all hard and uncomfortable." He leered, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his eyebrows arched suggestively.   
  
Xander's nose scrunched up. "Only you, Spike, can make a coffin sound dirty."  
  
"It is dirty."  
  
"Not what I meant."  
  
"What  _did_  you mean?"  
  
"Spike," Xander said tiredly.   
  
Spike nodded with a lopsided smile. "Fine, I'll get you a blanket." He took off his duster and walked to the ladder.  
  
"And a pillow. And a bed sheet."  
  
Spike threw a look at Xander over his shoulder.   
  
Xander grinned sheepishly. "No bed sheet."  
  
Spike cursed and climbed down the ladder, jumping half way to the floor. He'd gone insane obviously, because there was no plausible explanation to having that lousy excuse for humanity ordering him around in his own home. His thrice-damned brain saw nothing wrong with obeying either. The fact that he was fancying that spotty youth - though Xander wasn't really spotty, and he was a year short to becoming twenty – oh, bugger!   
  
Spike grabbed a pillow and a blanket flinging them on his shoulder. He eyed the bed sheet for a moment and with an eye roll he snatched it off his bed, leaving the mattress uncovered. He couldn't deny it anymore, not even to himself. He could think of as many insulting nicknames for Xander, but the matter of fact was he wanted him so bad he couldn't help it. He wanted to rip the chef's heart out of his body and break it in half and squeeze both halves hard and toss them to the floor and stomp them to nothingness.   
  
A hiss broke him out of his murdering thoughts, and a snicker was about to burst out of his lips at the sight of Xander trying to get comfortable on the coffin. The silly sod was turning and tossing, ramming his elbow on the rough surface which forced an unmanly whimper out of his mouth.   
  
Spike smirked. "If you stop being stubborn there's a comfortable bed down that ladder."  
  
Xander froze, looking at Spike. He patted the coffin with a grin. "I'm okay. I'm comfy."  
  
Spike dumped the pillow and sheets on his head. "Suit yourself."  
  
Turning around, he headed to the ladder and grabbed another bottle of whiskey on the way. He glanced at Xander and watched him arrange the pillow and blanket on top of the bed sheet. He kicked off his shoes and climbed on the coffin, giving Spike his back and trying to get comfortable.   
  
A soft smile made its way to Spike's lips before he forced his features to harden. He was unquestionably out of his wit.   
  
  
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
  
Xander dragged his feet down the sidewalk, his hands stuffed in his pockets seeking warmth as the cold breeze blew strongly this morning. Winter in Sunnydale was mostly in the early morning and late at night, and right now it was 8:30. He'd woken up about half an hour ago, feeling sore all over his body, so sore he had to do a full stretch to crack a lot of bones. He didn't waste his time trying to click his neck and ran out of the crypt before Spike woke up.  
  
He couldn't help the pang of guilt that was surging through him. Spike had been good to him yesterday, too good for a vampire, and running out on him like that didn't feel right. But he needed to get out of there. Somehow the crypt was airless, and Xander felt so scared and discomfited he couldn't breathe. He wanted to believe that it was the air of death that surrounded the place or the fact that Spike might do something crazy again, but Xander wasn't sure that was it. All he knew was that he was too terrified to stay there any longer.   
  
He kicked an empty soda can on the sidewalk and watched it roll to the middle of the street. He couldn't go home. His parents would be asleep by now, but his basement would be a huge wetty mess. The thought of his father sleeping in front of the door like a police dog waiting for him to show up made his skin run prickly up the back of his neck.   
  
He sure as hell couldn't go to Giles' place knowing that he was playing porno star with Anya. He tried to block all the disturbing images that started popping in his head, covering his ears with his hands, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head hard. He had to sing for Anya's contented face to disappear, and  _scream_  for Giles' orgasm face to be erased out of existence in his mind.   
  
"Xander!"   
  
Xander stopped screaming when he heard someone shouting his name. His eyes were still closed, and for a second he thought he was imagining things until the voice yelled his name again.  
  
Xander panicked, recognizing that voice and was on the verge of running away when he opened his eyes and saw Dana right in front of him.  
  
Dana was out of breath for a moment, looking like he hadn’t slept all night. "I've been looking for you everywhere," he said that through pants.   
  
Xander felt a tug of annoyance deep within him, desperately wishing he was anywhere else. "Why aren't you at work?"  
  
"It's Sunday."  
  
"Oh." So, yesterday wasn't Friday. Not that it mattered, though it was good to know that he didn't need to go to work tonight.   
  
"I went to your house…"  
  
Xander blinked out of his thoughts, looking at Dana with wide eyes. "What?"  
  
"Your house…" Dana repeated unsurely. "Your basement is a pool now."  
  
Xander felt his heart dropping out of his pants and rolling to the street where some car could run over it and squash it into an undiscriminating squish of mass. "You saw the basement?"  
  
"Yeah, I was able to save some of your stuff, but a lot of your comic books are ruined because of the water."  
  
He saw his  _comic books_! "Who the hell let you into my house?" Xander found himself yelling in an accusing tone, his body shaking with irrepressible fury.   
  
Dana frowned. "Your mom. What…"  
  
"You shouldn't have gone into my place without asking my permission!"  
  
Dana's face twitched with anger. "Your what? Didn't you say we're a couple in an equal relationship?   
  
"For a week, Dana," Xander yelled, feeling too angry he wanted to hit something. How convenient for Dana to bring up their  _equal_  relationship when it suited him and put a blind eye whenever he treated Xander like a second rate person. "We've been dating for a week. I don't have the keys to your apartment and I certainly don't remember inviting you to my house."  
  
Dana's mouth hung in disbelief. "I was looking for you. I wanted to make things right. I wanted to apologize."   
  
Xander stared at Dana's sincere gray eyes in stunned silence. He never doubted that Dana cared about him a great deal, yet Dana always managed to knock him for six with how much he really cared about him.   
  
"And why haven't you invited me to your house?" Dana asked, his brows furrowed in irritation. "I should be the angry one here."   
  
"Why do you think?" Xander muttered, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "You have the cleanest apartment, not to mention large on the size, and I live in my parents' dank-n-dark basement." He hugged himself, looking down at his feet. A wave of anger ran though him when he caught Dana's shiny black boots opposite to his washed out sneakers.   
  
"I used to live in a basement, too, Xander." He heard Dana's gentle voice drifting to his ears and then felt his warm hand holding his trembling chin and lifting his face up to look into the clearest gray eyes he'd ever seen. "We all start from the bottom and work our way up. You haven't completed a year yet since graduating high school. You still got a long way to go."  
  
Xander's face might be directed at Dana but his eyes were looking at anything but. He still felt humiliated that Dana had witnessed how much of a loser he was, still felt violated that his private life had been intruded into like that. He couldn't find it in his heart to forgive Dana for depriving him of his privacy.  
  
Dana sighed and released Xander's chin. "I'm the one who should be upset here. You practically compared me to your abusive ex."  
  
"Spike," Xander corrected. "And he wasn't exactly abusive."   
  
"You said he made you feel inferior. I don't intend to make you feel this way."   
  
Xander looked closely at Dana, who sounded genuinely earnest. He had no idea how controlling he would act sometimes. He hadn't the slightest idea.   
  
Dana brushed Xander's bangs back tenderly and something inside Xander responded. He felt his head leaning to the touch in spite of himself. His heart thumped when Dana smiled down at him, and a small smile crept to his lips.   
  
"Where did you spend the night?" Dana asked affectionately.   
  
"Spike's," Xander answered without thinking, too caught up in the gentle caress. The second the word came out, he bit his lower lip and widened his eyes.   
  
Dana looked unpleased, and his hand stopped stroking his hair. "Your ex?"  
  
Xander swallowed. "You keep saying that, but he never was. He was just a onetime thing that I'll never repeat again."  
  
"Why him? You have a lot of friends."  
  
A bitter laugh escaped Xander's mouth. "A lot of friends? My only friends are just two college girls busy with their spectacular college life, and a middle aged man who's shaking up with my  _real_  ex." He felt his jaw muscles tense and the back of his eyes sting with unwanted tears. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from embarrassing himself. Something inside snapped, and now he understood why he couldn't stay comfortable in Spike's crypt. He was afraid of Dana knowing he was there.   
  
Because he'd known Dana wouldn't take it well. For some strange reason, Dana thought that Spike was competition, which he wasn't. The mere idea of that was too laughable to be taken seriously.   
  
"Dana, there's no need to be upset over this. He means nothing to me." Xander tried to touch Dana's arm, but his hand was jerked away.   
  
Dana's lips were a tight thin line, his face etched with lines of exhaustion. "If that's true, then you wouldn't have spent the night at his place."   
  
"Dana," Xander said faintly, watching his boyfriend walk away stiffly. He wanted to run after him and stop him, tell him that no one mattered but him. That Spike was nothing but a waste of space. But his feet were glued to the ground, and his tongue was tied inside of his mouth. He couldn't say those words, because he couldn't feel them. At least the Spike part.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
Spike accepted the second shot of Jack Daniels and drank it all in one swallow. He ignored Willy's raised eyebrows and gazed around the bar resentfully. Humans and demons mingling together in one bar without an air of hostility or fear was nothing but a travesty. There could never be a truce between them. They were never meant to live together in peace. They were meant to kill and feed on each other, eliminate one and other out of existence. There should be nothing between them but hate.   
  
Spike's eyes gleamed when he noticed a dark-haired human walking around the demons with a hint of dread twirling inside him. His thoughts took him back to this morning when he found out that Xander fled without bothering to say a thank you. That was the last time Spike even considered dealing with him. Why was he even upset that wanker took off without a trail? Good riddance. Maybe Spike could actually start acting like a vampire again, now that Xander made it clear how he thought of him.   
  
"You seem depressed." Spike turned around to find a female shaba smiling softly at him, her slender fingers rubbing Spike's hand tenderly. There was something about shabas that attracted Spike, and it wasn't because they looked like humans. This one had a purple glow surrounding her body with a faint pink in the end of her scales that covered her chest and waist.   
  
"Unlikely," Spike replied gruffly. Being a shaba, she could feel all kinds of emotions in others. He just hoped she wouldn't offer to heal him, though it might rid him from the degrading Xander feelings that sickened him to no end.   
  
"You can't fool me," she said. "Someone hurt you. I can feel it."  
  
Spike nodded to Willy and smacked the bill on the counter, slipping off of the stool chair and heading to the exit. He wasn't in the mood for a shrink; all he wanted was a good strong drink and lose himself in his thoughts. That shaba wouldn't have left him alone.   
  
Spike pushed the door closed behind him and his hand instinctively went to his pocket, searching for his pack and lighter. His hand froze in place. Slipping out of the shadows, Chit-name stood before him with his beefy arms crossing his chest.   
  
"What brings you here?" Spike asked, panicking a little and trying not to glance at the bar.  
  
"Knew your type hangs in sleazy places like this."   
  
Spike wasn't sure how much Xander told his beau about creatures of the night, but he had a hunch that chef boyfriend was utterly clueless. "That doesn't answer my question."  
  
Dana took a step forward and literally spit the question, "What's your game, dickhead?"  
  
Spike wiped his face with disgust. "I don't do games, mate."  
  
"Right. You're obviously a saint. You'd never use other people for your own games."  
  
"What are you on about?"   
  
"Xander," Dana gritted out. "Stay away from him."   
  
Spike's nostrils flared. "I think that's for Xander to decide. You're not his keeper."  
  
"Quit the bullshit. I saw you hiding last night, spying on us." He took an angry step forward. "You're after Xander and I won't allow it."  
  
Spike pursed his lips, glancing briefly at the ground, and then stood face to face with Dana, feeling his hot breath hitting his cold cheeks. "Suppose I'm after Xander, what are you gonna do about it?"  
  
Dana tilted his head ominously. "I can smash your face."  
  
"Be my guest," Spike challenged.   
  
Dana's brawny hands grabbed Spike's collar in tight fists and pulled him up to his eye level. His eyes were bloodshot with rage and his teeth gritted together as he glared at Spike.   
  
Spike smirked. "You can't do it, can you?"  
  
"I can and I'll show you."  
  
"You know what your problem is? You're unconfident."  
  
Dana released an amused laugh. "Unconfident? Me?"  
  
"About your thing with the boy. If what you have is real then you wouldn't be here threatening me, 'cause all we ever had was a fling." Spike felt Dana's hands loosening around him. "But you know there's more to it. You know you stand no chance against me."  
  
"No!" The angry fists were back, but this time shaking uncontrollably. "You're the one who doesn't get it. Next time you ask Xander to sleep in your rat hole, I'll give your pasty face a bunch of colors, you hear me?"  
  
Spike couldn't shake the smug smile off his face even though there was a good chance he was going to get his nuts kicked. "Not scaring me, mate."  
  
Captain Bland-face was glaring so hard Spike thought the vein in his forehead would blow up. Spike didn't deny that he enjoyed setting the bloke's blood straight to boil. His hands were shaking and his fists clenched on Spike's collar. This was probably the most satisfying sight he'd seen in months.   
  
The door behind him swung open suddenly. "Hey, you haven't left," the shaba asked with delight.   
  
Dana let go of him at once, his eyes growing so wide with shock and horror. "What… who… what the hell…"  
  
Spike cursed and glared at her. "Get inside."  
  
Dana looked between them, aghast. "You… you know that thing?"  
  
Spike narrowed his eyes at him, feeling a little ticked off. "Not really. But I'm a thing, too." He felt his face slipping into his vampire planes.   
  
Dana jumped back, horrified. "Jesus Christ." His whole body shook with fear and he started waving Spike off with his hand. "Get off of me."  
  
Spike stepped in front of him with a smirk. "I'm nowhere near you."  
  
Dana was too scared to comprehend and he started defending himself by throwing one blow after another. Spike found himself smacked against the wall, his face stinging everywhere, and then Dana wrestled him up against the wall. Punches and kicks landed on him continually and showed no sign of stopping. Spike didn't even have the time to cover his face.   
  
"Stop it! Stop!" He heard the shaba chit snap at Dana.   
  
"What's going on in there?" Willy's voice came next, sounding stronger and thicker than usual.  
  
The abuse stopped at once and Spike felt himself sliding to the floor. He opened one eye with difficulty, seeing Dana facing Willy and pointing at Spike with a shaking finger.   
  
"Freaks. They're freaks."  
  
"What did you do?" Willy sounded appalled, looking at Spike with wide eyes. He glared up at Dana. "I hope you're not planning on coming in and beating up my costumers."   
  
"You mean there are more of them in there?" Spike's vision was going blurry, but he could see spots of blood on Dana's fist.   
  
" _Willy's Place_  welcomes all kinds of creatures."  
  
There was a moment of silence. "I'm calling the police."  
  
"They know about us. All they ask us is to keep the growls on mute."  
  
A warm hand touched Spike's sore cheek, and he felt a tender thumb drawing small soothing circles on his cheekbone. Spike couldn't turn his head to see the shaba, so he relaxed to her touched, and felt himself slipping to oblivion. That was until a rough boot kicked his thigh.   
  
"That's… that's unbelievable," Dana said in disbelief mingled with disgust. "That thing… that thing touched Xander." The fists were back to his collar, pulling him up to his feet. "Son of bitch!"  
  
Dana punched him in the jaw this time, and Spike grunted in pain.   
  
"Stop it now," Willy demanded.   
  
Dropping to the floor, Spike saw faintly the shaba demon standing between him and Dana, holding up a hand in front of him. A purple glow shined brightly and Dana's rigid expression melted away.   
  
"What? What…" he gasped in confusion.   
  
"Go home," she ordered thickly.   
  
Dana turned around like an empty shell and walked away. Spike would have felt relief if it wasn't for the pain throbbing all over his body.   
  
As his vision started to fade to black, he made out blonde hair appearing. He heard the Slayer's voice asking, "Willy, have you seen… Spike? What happened?"  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

 


	6. Rude Unconscious Vampire

  
  
  


  
**Lovable Losers**

 

**Chapter Six: Rude Unconscious Vampire**   


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Xander swallowed the last tater tot in his plate without chewing, which was an impossible task, so he spit it out. Willow glanced at the next table with embarrassment, watching the college studs snickering at them openly. She gave Xander a scolding look. "I thought we fixed this problem in seventh grade."   
  
He coughed and smacked his chest with a tight fist, his eyes bugging out. Willow laughed lightly and shook her head. "You're really hungry, are you?"  
  
He nodded quickly and drank his coke, trying not to drink it all in one swallow. He'd spent the whole day wandering in UC Sunnydale's campus, searching for his friends for no reason but to eat. The money in his wallet wasn't enough for a bag of chips, let alone breakfast and lunch. He'd looked longingly at the cafeteria all day, knowing that he wouldn't be allowed to eat because he had townie written all over him. When he had found Willow later in the evening in the enormous, college library, he had dragged her behind him to the cafeteria and demanded Buffy's dinner.  
  
Willow had been a little edgy since he found her, perhaps because of last night. She probably wanted to apologize for trashing his inamorato, but couldn't find the right words yet. Well, he was in no rush; he had plenty of time to hear the apology.  
  
"So, last night," Willow started, and Xander smiled to himself. "We ran into Riley and there was this stray demon the Initiative is after…"  
  
Xander held back a pout, ducking his head and looking at the rest of food in his plate. So she wasn't going to ask for forgiveness. Why would she be all panicky if she was going to discuss some Initiative mission? Unless she thought he'd be hurt because he wasn't included. Why  _wasn't_  he included?   
  
"We haven't slept all night. Sleeping during the day is kinda weird, but Buffy said that she's used to it since she spends most of her nights out there slaying."  
  
Xander had to give himself a mental reproach for accusing his friends of getting down all night at a frat party. "So, Buffy is still asleep?"  
  
"When I woke up she wasn't in bed."  
  
"Where did she go?"  
  
"I guess she went to Giles' place. He could probably find something in his books."  
  
A strangled, abrupt noise rumbled from Xander's throat as he choked on his food again.   
  
Willow patted him in the back with concern. "Would you stop eating so fast?"  
  
Xander cleared his throat. "She went to Giles?"  
  
"Yeah? Something wrong?"  
  
Xander threw up his hands. "Gigantically wrong."  
  
Willow's face clouded with worry. "Is Giles okay?"  
  
"I doubt it. He's doing the nasty with Anya."  
  
Willow's mouth hung open in shock. She pinched her cheek and looked at Xander for confirmation. He nodded sadly. Her eyebrows tangled in a frown, glaring at her plate. "First Xander and now Giles," she said to herself with spite. "That girl knows no shame."  
  
"We're judging Giles here. Not Anya." Xander frowned wearing a thoughtful expression. "Though when you think about it, going for Giles after  _me_? And looking so happy about it? Yeah, we're totally judging Anya."  
  
Her nose curled up in disgust. "That's just so weird and gross. It's beyond gross. It's the grossest act of all gross acts."  
  
"Imagine what I felt. First I get in a fight with Dana, and then coming across the nookie, and then…"  
  
"Xander?"  
  
"I had to stay at Spike's for…"  
  
"Xander," Willow repeated again, and he just realized that her eyes were looking at something behind him.   
  
Turning around, he felt his heart stop for a moment, not at the sight of Dana himself, but at the state he was in. His face was a picture of terror and panic, his body was shaking uncontrollably, and one of his tight fists was bloodied.   
  
Xander pushed his chair back in panic and held Dana's injured hand impulsively. "What the hell happened?"   
  
"Can we talk? In private?" Dana responded in a weird, wavering voice that Xander never heard before. He felt completely disturbed by how terrified and fragile Dana looked.   
  
Still holding his hand, Xander pulled him away to an empty corner in the crowded cafeteria, squeezing his wrist gently for reassurance. "What happened?" he asked calmly while his insides vibrated with hysteria. The fact that Dana looked around like a deer caught in headlights didn't help with calming him down.   
  
"Spike," Dana blurted out with a trembling voice.   
  
Xander's heart dropped in his stomach. "Spike did this?" He looked down at Dana's hand, frowning in confusion when all he could see was a blood stain but no injury.   
  
Dana snatched his hand out of Xander's grip, his eyes shut gravely and he shook his head in denial. "No, uh, you won't believe it."  
  
Xander swallowed, a lot of different bloodcurdling scenarios in which Spike wasn't presented in a good light played out in his mind. "What, Dana? You're scaring me."   
  
"Spike…" Dana stuttered, "Spike's face… it changed."  
  
"Changed?" Xander's heartbeat raged as he tried to comprehend what his boyfriend was saying to him, until he realized what must have happened. "Oh."  
  
Suddenly, Dana's frightened expression dissolved into suspicion. "What do you mean oh?"  
  
Xander's right eye twitched and he smacked his palm on it. "Uh…"  
  
Dana's suspicious gaze thickened. "Do… do you know about this?"  
  
"I…" Xander tried to find the right words to deny it, but words escaped him and he could say nothing but, "Yes."  
  
An incredulous laugh mingled with bitterness came roaring out of Dana's mouth. He threw an angry hand in the air with frustration. "I can't believe it." He shook his head, still chuckling resentfully. "You knew he was a freak and yet you slept with him."  
  
Xander bit his lower lip, a little hurt that Dana couldn't look him in the eye. "I know it sounds weird."  
  
"Weird?" More cynical chuckles before Dana's bloodshot eyes met Xander's. "It's an outrage. It's the exact definition of insanity."   
  
Xander nodded. "I understand. I'd probably feel the same way three years ago."  
  
"Th-three?" Dana barked.   
  
Xander winced. He really wasn't good at introducing a newbie to the world of vampires. It was his damn luck that Cordelia and Anya were part of it before he started dating them, and he didn't have the pressure of breaking the news to them.   
  
Dana was blinking at him with his mouth opening and closing, trying hard to form coherent words. "You fucking knew he was a monster? For three years?"  
  
"Not Spike," Xander answered with a sigh. The cat was out; he might as well tell him everything now. "But I knew that vampires existed when I was sixteen."  
  
Dana eyed him up and down, looking like he didn't recognize him. "And you didn't tell me?"  
  
"I…"  
  
"Wait, is that why your blonde friend is so freakishly strong? Is she a vampire, too?"  
  
Once, due to an eight-year-old's nightmare, but Xander wasn't going to say that out loud. "Don't be silly. Buffy is the Slayer."  
  
"The what?"  
  
Xander scratched his temple, wishing that Giles was around to explain things. "She's our Superman. The chosen one. She slays the vampires."  
  
"That tiny  _girl_?"  
  
"That's sexist," Xander replied weakly.   
  
Dana brushed his hair back, inhaling loudly, obviously trying to calm himself down. Xander couldn't blame him. He remembered when he first learned about vampires, how he wanted to pee his pants. If he wasn't distracted with Jesse being kidnapped, he would have.   
  
Dana took a deep breath, his eyes tightly shut. Xander looked at him with sympathy, giving him all the time he needed for the whole thing to sink in. His guts fell out when Dana regarded him with a blank stare. "Do you have any idea how crazy you sound?"  
  
Xander gave a shaky nod. "Yeah, I do."  
  
Dana stared at him impassively, his face set, and then he turned away, giving him his back.   
  
Xander took an uncertain step forward, his hand reaching out to touch Dana's arm, but not daring to. "Dana, I was going to tell you when the time was right."  
  
Dana shook his head. "No, no, that's… that's just insane." He looked at Xander over his shoulder. "I gotta go."  
  
"Dana…"  
  
"I need to think." He started walking away, with each step he made a knife cut through Xander's heart. Their relationship was officially over now, and Xander doubted they could reconcile again. One, amazing week that ended so painfully Xander couldn't breathe.   
  
He felt a soft hand stroking his arm gently and looked down at Willow's worried green eyes. "Are you okay?"  
  
He looked back at the entrance Dana had exited and shook his head no.   
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
"Xander?"  
  
Xander blinked out of his dazed state and looked into Willow's concerned eyes. He swallowed and followed her into her room, barely feeling his feet touching the ground.   
  
"Do you want something to drink?" Willow whispered the question as if afraid to break him.  
  
He forced a single headshake and sat on the edge of Buffy's bed. Hands dangling between his knees, he stared at nothing, waiting for the burn in his chest to become numbness.   
  
The image of Dana's disgusted and terrified stare made a searing pain tear through his heart burning as it made its way to his core. He clutched his chest impulsively, feeling his insides hurt so bad. He shut his eyes and bit his lip. God, it hurt. It freaking hurt.  
  
Willow's soft hand brushed his hair tenderly and fell on his shoulder, squeezing hard. Xander blinked his eyes open, not daring to look at Willow, because the sight of her pitying expression would send him to tears. She seemed to have gotten the message as her hand left his shoulder.   
  
He could never catch a break, could he? What was supposed to be the best relationship in his entire life turned into a disaster in a matter of one week. He was probably doomed to date within his circle of slayerettes, someone who knew about what went on in the night. No one in their right mind would want to date a guy who dedicated his life to help his Slayer friend preventing apocalypses and world chaos. Did that mean that he should just accept Spike's offer for sex? He should just settle for vampires and demons since normal human beings wouldn't want anything to do with him.   
  
"There's a message." Willow's voice broke him out of his thoughts and he ventured a look at her pressing on the phone.   
  
"Hey, Will," Buffy spoke through the phone, "Something new came up. Fetch Xander and come to Giles' place."   
  
Xander and Willow shared a worried look. Something bad must have happened, and Xander wasn't sure he could handle another blow.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Xander was surprised at the dismayed shock that split into him when his eyes landed on Spike's battered body. He dropped to his knees in front of Giles' couch and gazed at Spike's swollen cheek and black eye; there was a nasty wound on his cheek and a thin line of dried blood that came from his mouth. Xander was struck by how dead Spike looked at the moment, he'd always been full of life for a dead guy. He knew a lot of people who needed a chunk full of air to live but were completely dead on the inside and out.   
  
"Who did this?" he asked, turning to look at the others. They appeared a little shocked at his display of distress, and Xander had to look away when he noticed Anya clutching Giles' arm.   
  
"Are you really sure it's not the Initiative?" Anya asked Buffy apprehensively.   
  
Xander's eyes narrowed at the mess of blood on Spike's face, and then felt something swelling in his chest. "Was it… was it Dana?" He turned to Buffy.   
  
Her face was a mirror of sympathy. "How did you know?"  
  
"There was blood on his hand, but no wound. It was Spike's blood," Xander didn't like the wave of anger in his voice. Anger directed at Dana. The way his emotions shifted from sadness to anger, from lamenting his relationship with Dana to wanting to smack him with a shovel was too overwhelming. He got up on his feet and headed to the door.   
  
Buffy grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"  
  
She looked taken aback when he turned his pissed off gaze at her. "I'm going to talk to Dana."  
  
"He was obviously scared, Xander," Willow said gently. "He just saw his first vampire."  
  
Xander yanked his arm out of Buffy's grip. "So what?"  
  
"So what?" Buffy said. "Don't you remember your first reaction to seeing a vampire?"  
  
"My first reaction was to run away."  
  
"People react differently to fear," Giles said sympathetically.   
  
"And Dana's way to deal is to use his fists." Xander bit his lips when Anya leaned her head to rest on Giles' shoulder. He wanted to go between those two and push them away from each other. Keep them apart. They looked too wrong together.   
  
"Xander," Willow ventured, her fingers brushing lightly against his back, unsure if she should touch him. "Are you sure the anger you're feeling isn't about what happened at the cafeteria?"   
  
Xander peered at Spike's broken body over Willow's head and shook his head. "No." He walked out of the apartment and slammed the door behind him.   
  
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
Xander knocked as hard as he could on Dana's door, wincing after three knocks when his knuckles started to hurt. Determined, he started knocking using the other hand, but this one started bleeding after the first knock. Looking at his useless hands with frustration, he started kicking the door with his foot.  
  
The door swung open, and Dana's angry face showed up ready to murder. "Who the…." He stopped at once when he saw Xander in front of him, the towel that was draped on his neck almost slipping.   
  
Xander didn't waste any time. "You beat up Spike."  
  
"Wha…"  
  
"You punched the shit out of him," Xander accused heatedly.   
  
Dana's face was set, and he straightened himself crossing his arms over his bare chest. "He's a vampire."  
  
"That doesn't give you the right."  
  
"The what?" Dana snapped in bewilderment. "Can't you hear yourself? You're defending a vampire."  
  
"We know him, Dana."  
  
"No,  _you_  know him." His gaze narrowed on Xander, darkening a few shades. "You know him so well." Pain flared in his gray eyes and he dropped his gaze to his bare feet. "And that answers all my suspicions."  
  
Xander's lips twitched, wanting to say something but the heavy lump in his throat prevented him.   
  
Dana looked up again, his eyes shadowed with sadness and disgust. "You have feelings for him."  
  
Xander's jaw clenched. "I don't."  
  
"You have feelings for a freak of nature. How sick is that."  
  
Xander couldn't bear to see the repulsion in his eyes and shifted his gaze to the muscled naked chest in front of him. The nipples stuck out, hard and dark, like a centerfold, and his arms were hanging by his sides with his hands fisting tightly. Xander swallowed looking at those shaking fists that wanted to punch him for being a disgusting freak. "Is that what you really feel?" He looked up at Dana, feeling a painful ball in his chest. "I make you sick?"  
  
Dana's gaze was icy cold. "Yes."  
  
Xander's expression darkened in response. "Then we're through."   
  
"We were already through. I can't be with someone who keeps secrets from me." Dana stepped back, grabbing the door. "All I ask for is respect."  
  
Xander winced when the door was slammed in his face. He stared at it for a moment and then whispered, "Me, too."  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Xander's eyes were wide circles like animated Japanese characters – damnit Janet, he was supposed to buy the third volume of  _Sailor Moon Stars_  yesterday to complete the collection. Apparently, he was going to buy all three volumes seeing as the first two were completely ruined and thrown in his front lawn. Actually, all his stuff was a pile of soggy mess on his front lawn.   
  
Bright colored Hawaiian shirts flew in the air and landed on top of the mountain. Xander shifted his gaze to the door and found his father kicking an opened box that contained his Superman and Batman comics out.   
  
"Dad?" he said in a freaked out voice.   
  
His father looked up and scowled when he saw him. "Oh, the wuss finally shows up."  
  
Xander winced, remembering what Spike said about his father finding him chained to his bed. "Dad, let me explain."   
  
His father crossed his arms over his chest and continued shooting daggers at him. "Yeah, explain leaving the basement flooding and hiding your wimp ass somewhere else, leaving me to clean up after you."   
  
Xander blinked, all explanations died in his tongue. "I… you're not upset about… uh…"  
  
"The naked faggot tied to your bed? I'm not dancing with happiness, but I've lost all my high expectations when you were kicked off the kiddie league. So, the homo thing isn't shocking."   
  
Xander's lips twitched and he lowered his gaze to his sneakers. He'd always expected his father to freak, maybe beat him up over being gay. But he didn't expect at all that his father wouldn't be shocked, that he was used to seeing him as a disappointment. The lack of reaction to the news hurt more than an angry blow to his flesh.   
  
Rough fingers jerked his chin up so he'd meet his father's eyes. "What I wanted was for you to man up and take responsibility for your screw ups." Sadness and disappointment glittered in his father's face. "Fag or not, that's what a man would do."  
  
Xander felt tears stinging his eyes, watching as the tiny piece of hope his father still had for him melted away. "Dad, I'm sorry," he whispered feeling shame.   
  
His father shook his head. "Sorry won't do it for me. You're out of here." He turned his back to Xander and nodded at his stuff. "Take your trash and leave."  
  
Xander's chest swelled painfully when his father shut the door behind him. This was probably the last time he'd talk to his parents. After nineteen years of disappointments, they finally gave up on him.  
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
"So, you have no place to stay?" Willow asked with empathy, her hand massaging Xander's shoulder gently.   
  
He leaned back against the kitchen bar, not feeling comfortable at all sitting on the stool chair. "No." He looked at the sympathetic eyes of his friends, hating how small and weak he must be appearing to them. "Dana and I are broken up, and I screwed it up with my parents."  
  
Giles took off his glasses, rubbing his nose bridge. "You can stay here until you find a place of your own."   
  
Xander's eyes caught Anya's hand reaching for a handkerchief. She took Giles' glasses and started polishing them for him. Giles smiled his thanks to her.   
  
Xander felt his chest tightening. "I can't. I…"  
  
Giles followed Xander's line of sight and snatched his glasses from Anya's hands at once. Anya stared at Giles in confusion until she noticed Xander looking at them. He swore he saw fumes of anger rushing out of her ears. "Oh, grow up," she snapped. "You and I are no longer an item. I'm Giles' woman now, deal with it."  
  
Xander glared at her. "Well, it's not easy." He looked at Buffy and Willow. "Right?"  
  
Buffy nodded so fast her head almost fell off. Willow was about to nod but glanced unsurely toward Giles, who ducked his head in embarrassment.   
  
Anya looked like she wanted to rip their throats out. She scowled at him. "There's nothing shameful about Giles having intercourse. You haven't seen his body." Xander made gagging sounds, and Buffy snickered. "Stop acting like a jerk," Anya shouted.   
  
Xander rolled his eyes. "Oh, right, I'm the jerk here."  
  
Anya's lips twitched. "Well, you are."  
  
Taken aback by her comment, he stared at her face, tight with anger. She wasn't wrong. Come to think of it, he'd been quite a jerk lately. He'd cheated on her, kept secrets from Dana, ruined his parents' basement and dumped the whole mess on them. He had managed to hurt and disappoint every single person in his life in a matter of a week. His lips set in a thin line, he directed his gaze from Anya's heated eyes downward to the floor, making no eye-contact with anyone.  
  
They all stood in heavy silence for a moment. Anya walked back to stand beside Giles, her hand slipped to hold his, and he held her hand, stroking it with his finger. Xander felt a ball of guilt burning in his chest, hating himself for making Giles feel undesired and uncomfortable. He'd suffered humiliation at the hands of million bullies and here he was, humiliating and hurting Giles. One thing Xander appreciated about Anya was how she made her partner feel special and valuable. And she made sure everybody knew it. Dana was the same. When they were still together.   
  
"So," Willow said, breaking the tension. "What are we going to do about Spike?"   
  
"Maybe I should take him to his crypt," Buffy said simply, sounding a little relieved to talk about something else.   
  
Willow didn't seem to like the answer. "And just leave him there?"   
  
"I don't think Harmony would want anything to do with him," Buffy said.   
  
"And we don't know any of his friends," Willow said. "Although he did say that Xander was one."  
  
Xander frowned at her. "Spike said I was his friend?"  
  
Willow's brows met in sadness. "You're not?"  
  
Buffy nudged her with her elbow. "I told you he was playing with us."  
  
Xander looked at Spike still spread on the couch, completely unconscious. All the weird behavior Spike had displayed lately didn't confuse him anymore. The weak remarks whenever Xander spoke crudely to him, the insistence to have Xander sleep with him, and then suggesting that Xander could stay at his crypt. Spike used to see him as nothing, someone below his standards, but everything changed now and suddenly Xander was Hugh Jackman. What changed Spike?   
  
 _Dana._  Xander started seeing Dana, and Spike realized that he wanted him when he wasn't available. But Xander was available now; would that make Spike not want him again? Not that Xander expected anything serious to happen between him and Spike. He wasn't sure he  _wanted_  anything to happen. He still hated Spike. But…  
  
Xander's hands clutched the kitchen bar behind him as he stared at Spike's bandaged face. Spike had given him his home when he had nowhere else to go, and Xander rewarded him with a jealous boyfriend kicking the crap out of him. He didn't even thank Spike for letting him stay. Anya was right. Xander should win the award for the jerk of the year.   
  
He turned to look at Buffy. "If you're dumping him in his crypt, dump me there with him."  
  
Buffy blinked, befuddled for a moment, and then gasped horrified. "You're staying in Spike's crypt?" she exclaimed, causing everybody else to gasp as well. "Xander, you're not safe there. Vampires don't need an invitation to get into the crypt."  
  
"Not if I make it my own home," Xander pointed out. "If I live there, vampires would need invitation to come in, right?"  
  
Willow's eyes widened in terror. "You're gonna make a crypt your home?"  
  
Xander shrugged. "There's no other solution."  
  
"There is: staying here with me." Giles put down his foot and glared at Xander. "I can't possibly let you take a foolish step when I have plenty of room for you here."  
  
"The only room you have is for you and the Mrs. And I'm not sleeping on the couch when you're making nookies up there." Xander scrunched his nose, ignoring how Giles pinched his nose uncomfortably.   
  
Buffy nodded in agreement. "Besides, your walls are thin."  
  
Anya scoffed. "Don't be absurd. I'm not his Mrs. unless I'm his wife." Her face brightened and she held Giles' hands. "Are you proposing to me?"  
  
Giles took off his glasses again and rubbed his forehead tiredly.   
  
A soft hand grasped Xander's, and he turned to meet Willow's concerned eyes. "I'm not sure about this, Xander. I won't be able to sleep at night knowing you could be attacked any second."  
  
Xander tried to remain determined and not swayed by Willow's big green eyes. "Like I said, if I make it my home. No vampire can come in."  
  
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "You don't know that."  
  
Xander imitated her, looking as resolved. "We'll put it to a test."  
  
They stared at each other for a moment before she threw her hands up in surrender and walked away from him. Xander turned his gaze to the others who appeared as upset as Buffy, and he understood why they felt this way. In fact, he was flattered and happy that they cared so much about him. But this was a decision he had to make.  _His_  decision to make.   
  
He heaved a sigh, willing his friends to understand with his eyes. "My dad said I'm not man enough to own up to my screw ups. Spike was hurt because of me, and I'm taking responsibility for that." He made his point by walking to Spike and standing beside him, daring anyone to object.   
  
They didn't seem pleased by that but no one objected, even though Willow looked extremely upset. Buffy, who was facing the wall, turned her gaze to him. Xander returned her stare with a hard one.   
  
She reluctantly sighed and put her hands on her hips. "When do we leave?"   
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Xander looked around Spike's crypt, feeling more at ease being here right now than he did before. He was a free man now that he and Dana had broken up. All the discomfort of being suffocated and feeling like he was under a microscope were gone now. He could easily stay here without looking around in fear of being spied on.   
  
"Where do you want me to dump him?"  
  
He turned around to see Buffy standing with Spike scooped in her arms, her face a picture of boredom and displeasure. He stifled a laugh at the sight of her tiny body carrying Spike's bigger one without a trace of exhaustion. He nodded his head to the ladder. "Downstairs. He's got a bed in there."  
  
Buffy frowned. "How did he manage that?"  
  
"I don't know. Maybe it was there since the beginning."  
  
Buffy scoffed. "Who'd be crazy enough to sleep in a crypt?" She smirked when Xander shot her a look. "Besides you."   
  
Xander turned his full attention to her, folding his arms across his chest, his expression impatient.  
  
"I'm just saying he can't push a whole bed down that small hole."  
  
Xander shook his head and started climbing down the ladder. The second he set his foot on the floor, he felt a load of heaviness fall on his head. He lay flat on the floor with Spike's dead body on top of him.   
  
"Oops, sorry," Buffy said, jumping down the hole effortlessly. Xander grunted, pushing Spike's body off of him when he heard Buffy gasp.   
  
"He definitely can't fit  _that_  into a small hole."  
  
Xander looked behind him and his mouth hung at the sight of an elegant canopy bed that was draped in red velvet. That was a king-sized bed. Spike actually wanted him to sleep on  _that_  with him. He blinked out of disturbing thoughts and started dragging Spike to the bed, taking off his shoes and coat before placing him on bed. He glared at Buffy who stood there pointlessly as he pulled the covers up on Spike's body.   
  
Buffy looked around the chambered. "This place lacks on the furniture."   
  
"It hasn't been long since he moved in here."  
  
"Since when you're Spike's defender?"  
  
"I'm not his defender," he protested. "Just speaking logic."  
  
"Well, your logic stopped being logical since you made this place your residence. So not homey."   
  
He turned to face her, feeling intolerant. "Don't you have to go slaying or study for some quiz?"  
  
Buffy chuckled. "I'm just pulling your chain. Buffy-sense of humor." She walked to him and patted him on the arm. "I'm gonna patrol close by. Make sure nothing demony comes in."   
  
He looked into her serious hazel eyes and smiled affectionately. "Thanks, Buffy."  
  
She squeezed his arm before making her way up the ladder. Xander kept smiling in her direction until she disappeared, and then he sat on the edge of the bed next to Spike. He looked more peacefully asleep instead of unconscious, perhaps because of the bandages on his face. The craggy lines on his face smoothed slightly and he appeared in a better shape now than he was at Giles' apartment.   
  
Xander suddenly heard a footstep upstairs and looked up. "Buffy? You're back?" he called, panicking when no one answered.   
  
Bare purple feet appeared in sight going down the stairs. Xander's eyes widened when a naked purple woman with fish scales that made her look like a mermaid with feet showed up.   
  
"Guh!" he screamed, reaching involuntarily for the only weapon he had. "Stay away from us. I got a stake."   
  
The woman's features softened. "You're so tense."   
  
"Duh," he exclaimed, waving the stake in her face.   
  
"So much pain and misery. It's unbearable." She took a step forward. "I can fix it."  
  
Xander took ten steps backward. "No. No fixing. I'm all fixed thank you very much."  
  
She held up a hand in front of him, and a creepy purple glow blazed fiercely, surrounding Xander all over. He tried to swat it away uselessly for a second when suddenly he felt the anxiety and fear inside him dissolving into relaxation. His grip on the stake softened and it fell to the floor.   
  
Xander's eyebrows drew together. "Wha…"  
  
She smiled tenderly. "Do you feel better?"  
  
He blinked at her in confusion. "Who are you?"  
  
"A shaba demon. I deal with negative emotions." Her gaze became sorrowful when her eyes landed on Spike. "What happened to him was unfortunate."  
  
He looked between them. "You… you know him?"  
  
"Met him before the attack. Willy filled me in on everything." She returned her attention to Xander. "He's the crippled vampire."  
  
Xander lifted his eyebrows, staring at Spike for a moment. "Guess he is."  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest and sat on the bed. "I have to say, what's stranger than a Slayer rescuing a vampire is a human who cares about him."  
  
Xander snorted a laugh. "Cares? Me? No. I just… it's my fault and I'm fixing it." He pointed at himself with a lopsided smile. "'Cause I'm a fixer, too."  
  
"How is it your fault?"  
  
"My boyfriend beat him up." He paused; feeling dejected, and then corrected himself, "Ex. Ex-boyfriend."  
  
Her sympathetic stare made him look away in annoyance. He was darn sick of being pitied by everyone. Not that he blamed them; everything about him lately was pathetically pitiful.   
  
He stared at demon girl closely, drinking in her angelic human features. She looked exactly human except for the purple glow surrounding her and the fish skin. She also acted human. This was probably the first time he met a nice demon who didn’t want to feed on him. "What did you say your name was?" he asked.  
  
"Never mentioned my name, but it’s Nesreen." She looked back at him. "What's yours?"  
  
"Xander. So, what are you doing here?"  
  
"I was curious about him. He was in a bad condition when I found him. Emotionally."  
  
He grinned. "And you wanna fix that."  
  
She cast him a small smile. "Yeah."  
  
He shrugged. "Can't see how that's possible with him being out cold and all."  
  
"I can stick around until he wakes up." She eyed Xander unsurely. "If you don't mind."  
  
"Not at all. I can't be stuck in here 24/7. I have a night job, but not  _that_  kind of night job. I'm a waiter. At night. Kinda like Bruce Wayne is Batman at night although mine is less cool." He stopped rambling promptly and a bashful smile curled up his lips. "Uh, point is I need a vampsitter for Spike."   
  
"Do I get the job?" she asked playfully.   
  
"I'd have preferred a ruthless puffed up demon guard, but you're all right." They shared a grin before their eyes fell on the unconscious vampire lying in the middle of the bed.   
  
Xander looked at her troubled. "Where will we sleep?"   
  
Nesreen grinned. "Sleep on his right, and I'll take the left."  
  
Xander's eyes widened. "What?" He watched her lay on Spike's left and nestled comfortably on his side.   
  
Xander bit his lips. "Guess I'll sleep on the coffin again." He hung his head in sorrow.   
  
  


~*~*~*~


	7. Mending Fences With Exes

  
  


  
**Lovable Losers**

 

**Chapter Seven: Mending Fences With Exes**   


  
  
  
  
  
  
Xander stared for what seemed like hours at his boxes and bags, which were crowded close to the crypt entrance. Given the latest circumstances and his low salary, he'd probably stay at Spike's for a long while, a very long while.  _Here's hoping "a very long while" means less than a week._  He sighed and stared at his stuff some more. Most of it was ruined by the flood, but he despised the thought of throwing out his comic collection. It seemed like his life had been flushed down the toilet, and he had to start all over again. In a crypt. Where the corpses lived. Or didn't, what with being dead. Judging by the circumstances, Xander was deader than a corpse right now.   
  
"Good evening," Nesreen chirped, climbing up the stairs with a wide grin. "I'm in such a good mood, I can't contain myself." She did a little bounce as she walked toward him.   
  
"You slept all day on a comfortable bed, of course you're all cheery and refreshed," he mumbled resentfully.  
  
"None of that now," she said with a hint of warning in her tone. " _You're_  the one who decided to sleep on a coffin."  
  
He shrugged. "Well, beats sleeping in the arms of the undead."  
  
She waved him off. "You don't mean that."   
  
"I do." He glared at her.   
  
"Whatever you say." She stood next to him and gazed down at his stuff. "Having trouble with unpacking?"  
  
Xander rubbed his forehead with a sigh. "I seem to have forgotten how."  
  
She glanced at him knowingly. "You seem to have doubts about it."  
  
He scoffed. "Something else I forgot. I'm talking to a mind-reading demon."  
  
"Emotion-reading," she corrected. "Do you want my help?"  
  
"Not now. I gotta go serve people food." He walked to the coffin to get his uniform and pointed at her. "And you gotta do your nurse job."  
  
She nodded. "I think some blood would help the patient."  
  
"Yeah, I found a couple of things of pig's blood in the fridge. I'll probably buy more on the way back."  
  
He was about to take off his pants when he glanced at her. Demon or not, she was still a female. He crouched behind the coffin and, with difficulty, took off his pants. He reached for the black slacks and stared at the piles of dust on the floor. Spike never cleaned up in here, did he? Lowie wouldn't like the dust on his clothes. With a lot of accidents – he had to roll on the dusty floor to put on his pants - he managed to put on his uniform, except now the black material was caked white with dust.   
  
He sprang to his feet and started dusting off his clothes. "So, see you later." It wasn't working; his clothes looked like a vampire had exploded all over him. And he couldn't see how badly his back looked, not without a mirror here. Maybe if he showered with his uniform on, he could get all dust out, but Lowie would still be upset with him showing up all soaked.   
  
During all the dusting, he realized that he hadn't heard a response from Nesreen. He looked up to find her standing still in the same spot he left her, staring at space. "Nesreen?"  
  
She snapped out of her thoughts. "Huh?"  
  
"Time for work."   
  
She frowned. "And that would be?"  
  
His eyebrows crept high. "Taking care of the unconscious?"   
  
"Right." She nodded, her lips breaking into a creepy bright grin. "I'm on it."  
  
He nodded with a grin of his own. "Atta girl."  
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
  
Something thick and heavy weighed on his chest as he walked into the restaurant. He'd always been eager to start work –even though he couldn't manage  _not_  to break something every night, which earned him a good scolding from Lowie- but now everything had changed. The drama between him and Dana made the thought of working together in the same place very complicated. He could get through the night by avoiding the kitchen. Lowie would be shocked, not to mention pleased, that he wouldn't be sneaking into the kitchen every second.   
  
Speaking of Lowie…  
  
"I don't care if he's never iced a cake in his life!" Lowie shouted into the phone, and then paused to frown. "Actually I do care about that. I might be looking for a temporary pastry chef, but that doesn't mean I should accept someone who can't crack an egg." He slammed the phone down.  
  
Xander walked to Lowie, amused by how tightly he was clutching the sides of the table as if he was about to drown. He patted him on the shoulder and asked good-naturally, "What's going on, boss?"  
  
Lowie startled with a yelp, and Xander expected a storm of sophisticated curses directed at him, but to his surprise Lowie looked extremely glad to see him. "Xander, thank heavens, you're here!"  
  
Lowie grabbed his shoulders in a death grip and shook him back and forth. "It's a catastrophe. Dana is lost to the earth. People keep demanding his famous Lemon Graninta and he won't even make tarts!"   
  
Xander was on the verge of worrying about Dana when Lowie disturbed him by crying on his shoulder. He instantly raised his hands in the air because he couldn't just hug his boss. The sight of a grown man pouring tears on his shoulder as he held on to him like grim death was too wrong for words. "Uh, Lo, calm down. What did Howard say about this?"  
  
Lowie wiped his nose with Xander's tie as he hiccupped his answer, "He flew to Texas on an urgent family emergency."  
  
Typical of Howard the Coward to throw every crisis the restaurant faced onto Lowie's shoulders. Xander took off his snot-filled tie in disgust and tossed it aside. "What's wrong with Dana?"  
  
"We've lost him, Xander." Lowie's lower lip trembled slightly. "He keeps moping in the kitchen and won’t stop blathering nonsense about vampires and lumpy foreheads."  
  
"Bumpy," Xander corrected uneasily.   
  
Lowie's eyes widened with hope and delight. "He talked to you about it?" He clutched Xander's arm like he was hanging on to dear life. "Listen, you have to get there and knock some sense into his jumbled brain."  
  
"Lo, I can't." Xander had to look away from the wide, tearful eyes. "We've broken up."  
  
Lowie slapped him on the arm with a scowl. "What possessed you to break up with him at such critical time?" He pointed a determined finger, poking Xander's nose. "You're the only one who can convince him to work. So, you have to reconcile."   
  
Xander shook his head hastily. "But…"  
  
The bony finger poked Xander's nose again. "I don't care if you have to sex him up to do it. Just get him baking some pastry." He grabbed Xander's shoulders, turning him around, and pushed him toward the kitchen.   
  
"And while you're in there, do something about your work wear, you look like a ghost.”  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
Dana was crouched on the floor in the stockroom, hugging his knees and burying his face between them. He looked like a bear that had lost all its hair – or perhaps had been stung by bees for honey-stealing. Whatever his overtaxed mind came up with, he looked unnaturally pathetic. Dana was supposed to be big and strong, someone you'd depend on all the time. One chipped vampire that  _he'd_  beaten to a coma had shaken him up like a bottle of soda.   
  
Xander held back a scoff and stood right in front of him, the tips of his sneakers touching Dana's boots. All the nasty thoughts going through his head vanished at the sight of those anguished gray eyes. Everything started coming back to him. While getting over Jesse's death, he remembered the hollow feeling of loss and numbness that ran inside him every night for a year. He'd spent his nights shaking in bed, unable to sleep, wondering if a vampire would break through his firmly shut window and attack him. He'd hidden those feelings from the others, knowing that Buffy and Giles wouldn't let him in if he showed fear and hesitation. He'd grown used to vampires existing as years went on, and so would Dana.   
  
His eyes softened and his lips twisted into a small, understanding smile.   
  
Dana lowered his gaze to the floor. "No one believes me," he muttered. "They think I'm a nut job."  
  
"Do you understand why I kept it from you now?" Dana wouldn't look at him; ashamed maybe? Xander sighed and sat in front of him on the floor. "Face it, Dana, this is the town of denial. Even those who come face to face with vampires don't usually believe what they see."  
  
"The thought of these monsters being real..." Dana trailed off, wiping his face with his hands. "I can't work or eat or sleep. I can't do anything except think and talk about them." He drew a shaky breath, looking up at Xander with ghostly eyes. "How did you stay in this town for more than three years knowing they were around?"  
  
Xander smiled despite of himself. "I can't just leave, Dana."  
  
"Yes, you can. Just pack up your bags and leave. Maybe that's what I should do."  
  
Xander frowned. "What about family and friends?"  
  
"My family is in Louisiana." Dana looked away. "All I've got is a bunch of friends."  
  
Xander fell silent, thinking about what Dana just said. They'd been dating for a week and Dana hadn't introduced him to anyone, except Lowie and the working staff at the restaurant. If memory served him right, he remembered a skinny man that was with Dana at the supermarket when they first met.   
  
"So, you're just gonna abandon those "bunch of friends"?" he asked in annoyance. He'd never thought that Dana was an unfaithful coward. If they were still together, would Dana leave him behind and run away?   
  
Dana looked up to him with a smile, his eyes affectionate.  
  
"What?"  
  
Dana sighed. "All these years thinking I was the man, body of wrestler and manners of a porcine, yet I'm nothing but a lily-livered wimp." He leaned back until his back rested against the wall. "I was beaten up for being who I am, mocked and humiliated, told I was less of a man, a sissy… so I worked on my image. Made sure everybody knew I was tough."   
  
Xander felt a pang of sadness, thinking of how much Dana must have suffered since he'd known he was gay at a very early age. He had just assumed that Dana had been a bully all his life. Of course, it must have been tough on him, and who knew more about being bullied than Xander?   
  
"You're the real man, Xander," Dana said warmly with an apologetic smile. "You don't look it, but inside you're much more of a man than I am."   
  
"Dana," Xander whispered. "I'm not that much of a good person myself. I make mistakes all the time."  
  
"It's not about mistakes. It's about confidence." Dana bit on his lips resentfully. "He was right. I've always been unconfident."  
  
"He?"  
  
"The vampire."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Things were starting to get awkward. Xander shifted slightly, hoping that Dana wouldn't ask him about his living arrangements, which he probably wouldn't because he didn't know his father had kicked him out.   
  
"I don't get it," Dana muttered. "It still sickens me."  
  
Xander nodded. "I understand."  
  
Dana rubbed his forehead with a sigh. "I don't know if I can stay in this town for long. I'm not as brave as you."  
  
Something inside Xander snapped. "You're leaving?"  
  
Dana smiled sadly at him. "I think I will."   
  
Xander swallowed, feeling his chest tightening. "Lowie's gonna kill me."  
  
Dana chuckled. "I thought you'd be more upset about me leaving."  
  
"I am, but as you know, I'm a Chandler."  
  
Dana shook his head. "Again with the sitcoms."  
  
Xander wanted to smile, but couldn't bring himself to. The thought of Dana leaving bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He'd deny it if said out loud, but he had believed that once Dana got used Sunnydale being the town of vampires he and Xander would get back together. That was probably just wistful thinking now.   
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
All the miserable thoughts vanished when Xander walked into the crypt and heard the screams of horror. Xander's frown melted into a genuinely happy smile when he saw Spike running around the crypt. "Spike, you're awake," he said cheerfully.  
  
Spike didn't hear him, too busy playing  _Tom and Jerry_  with Nesreen. Xander felt a little dizzy turning his gaze from left to right, following the two of them. He was starting to feel left out until Spike hid behind him, pointing a shaking finger at the Shaba demon.   
  
"Keep her away from me."   
  
Xander looked at Nesreen with confusion. "What's going on?"  
  
The purple glow surrounding her grew darker as she glared at Spike. "I just wanted to clean out the negativity."  
  
Spike peered from behind Xander. "I want my negativity. It's who I am." He went back to hiding, hanging on to Xander like a cat with claws.   
  
Xander looked at Spike's fading wounds with a frown. "You look perfectly well. When I left you looked perfectly ill." He cast a pointed look at Nesreen. "When I'm rhyming, I  _know_ something bad happened."  
  
She grinned proudly. "I got him human blood. It helps vampires to heal faster than animal's blood."  
  
Xander's heart sank. "H-human?!" he blurted out, pulling Spike up by the collar. He grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard. "What the hell did she do?"  
  
Spike yanked Xander's hands from his shoulders. "Don't jump to conclusions, mate. She stole a few blood bags from the hospital."  
  
Nesreen looked defensive. "I wanted to pay for them, but no one would stop and talk to me."  
  
Xander stared at her. "Let me guess, they screamed and fled like swarming frogs."   
  
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Were you there?"  
  
Xander rolled his eyes.   
  
"Wait a second, what's this rubbish doing in my property?" Spike narrowed his eyes at Xander's pile of boxes and took a hold of one of Xander's soaked comic books, waving it in Xander's face. "What's this?" He looked between them. "Why are you two here?"  
  
Xander snatched his comic book and patted it gently. "We're shacking up."  
  
"In my home," Spike said incredulously. "And I'm the last one to know."  
  
"You were there when the decision was made. It's not my fault you were unconscious."  
  
Veins of anger pulsed in Spike's forehead. "It's  _your_  bloody fault, you twit! Your wanker of a boyfriend knocked me out."  
  
Xander winced, dropping his gaze to the floor. "He's not my boyfriend anymore."  
  
"He was then!" Spike snapped, and then paused. "Oh."  
  
There was brief moment of silence before Xander sighed. "I understand if you don't want me here. I'll get out of your hair." A small part of him had known that once Spike woke up, he'd be out in the streets. He'd been planning to search for a cheap room to rent, but hadn't thought that Spike would recover this fast.   
  
He started moving toward his stuff when Spike grabbed his arm. "Wait."   
  
Xander looked at him questioningly.   
  
"Are you willing to pay rent?"  
  
Xander frowned. "Rent?"  
  
With a side glance, Spike explained, "A bag of blood every night."   
  
Xander's lips broke into a smile. "I can manage that."  
  
"Then we have a deal." There was what looked like a hint of a smile on Spike's lips, but Xander figured he was hallucinating that.   
  
"What about me?" Nesreen perked up.   
  
"You're out," Spike said dismissively, walking toward the underground, disappearing through the hole.   
  
Mouth hanging open, Nesreen turned her shocked eyes to Xander. He shrugged with a grin.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Xander released a strained breath of relief when they reached Giles' apartment. He'd been dragging Spike's resisting body for what seemed to be three hours, running after him and recapturing him whenever Spike broke loose. He rolled his eyes at Spike's low grumbles of displeasure. "C'mon, Willow actually burst with happiness when I called her this morning with the wonderful news."  
  
"Why should  _I_  be the one going there?" Spike complained, pulling a cigarette and lighter from his pocket. He always smoked when he was nervous. "They're the ones who should drop by with presents. Never heard of the sick paying visits, have you?"   
  
"Because Buffy saved your life and Giles patched your wounds. The right thing to do is to say thank you."  
  
Spike blew out a cloud of smoke in Xander's face. While gagging on stale fumes, Xander heard Spike's angry voice, "Don't see why I'm supposed to do the right thing when your bloody boyfriend is still walking about, insulting and beating up innocent bystanders. You white hats are known for your double standards."   
  
Tears stung Xander's eyes as he waved off the smoke. “Stop comparing yourself to him. And he's  _not_  my boyfriend. Not anymore." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Spike when he was about to blow another ring of smoke. He raised both eyebrows, daring him to misbehave again. Spike's nostrils flared and the smoke ended up tapering off in a long thin line.   
  
Xander sighed. "I'm asking you, as a friend, to thank my friends for saving your butt."  
  
Spike scoffed. "We're not friends."  
  
Xander smirked. "You don't believe that."  
  
Spike pointed his cigarette at Giles' front door. "Your goody-good friends couldn't care less if I lived or died, so why bother?"  
  
"They do. They were totally shaken up when I left them yesterday." He grabbed Spike's shoulder and dragged him again to the entrance, pushing the door open.   
  
His mouth hung open at what he saw; Spike's scornful huff was the last thing he heard as the room lapsed into silence.   
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
A smug smile curled the edges of Spike's lips as he watched Xander's stunned expression. His dear chums were gathered around a half-eaten chocolate cake, each one holding a plate with cake crumbs and a dirty fork. They whipped their heads toward the door when Spike and Xander walked in, their cheeks bulging as crumbs fell out of their mouths. Guilt painted their faces instantly.   
  
Willow swallowed roughly at once. "Hey, Spike, you're awake!" Her cheerful greeting couldn't hide her embarrassment.   
  
Xander blinked, looking quite upset. "You're having a party and you didn't invite me?"  
  
Willow shook her head hard, making her red hair fly everywhere. "No party. Swear."  
  
Buffy nodded. "The cake was here when we arrived."  
  
Spike let out a soft chuckle, looking at Xander. "You're right. I feel so loved." Xander gave him a look that made Spike cock an eyebrow. "Your mates are eating the present they bought for me."  
  
Anya's eyebrows furrowed. "We didn't buy it."  
  
Buffy scoffed. "What made you think we'd buy you a present?"  
  
Giles finished the long task of polishing his glasses. "Dana came by with it an hour ago." He put them on, casting a sympathetic glance at Xander.   
  
"He was here?" Xander asked, surprised. "Why?"  
  
Giles smiled. "To apologize."  
  
Anya raised her plate. "With cake."  
  
Spike sneered. "Obviously, the sodding git ain't making any efforts for me."  
  
"No, he did." Anya hurried toward the kitchen area and fetched a white box from the refrigerator. She handed the box to Spike with a grin. "He made this just for you."  
  
Suspiciously, Spike opened the box and lifted his eyebrows at Anya. "A cake?"  
  
"With drips of pig's blood," she said cheerfully. "He thought you'd love it."   
  
Xander peered at Spike's cake, looking touched. "That's… that's nice of him."  
  
Giles moved forward and placed a gentle hand on Xander's shoulder. "He wanted to make sure he amended things before he left."  
  
"Left?" Xander whispered. His eyes went wide when he realized what was happening. "He's leaving today?"  
  
"Tonight," Anya corrected.   
  
Sympathy returned to Giles' face. "He dropped the cake on his way to the airport."  
  
"How… how could he book a flight so early? He only told me about his plans to leave last night." This was impossible. How could he leave so soon? And without saying goodbye to Xander.   
  
He stared at Giles' face in disbelief, until panic started to wash over his face. "I… I gotta go!"   
  
"Xander," Anya said, stopping Xander from moving. She rushed to Giles' desk and grabbed a chain with keys. "You'll get there faster with a car."  
  
Giles was about to object, but Anya smacked her palm over his mouth.   
  
Xander stared at the keys before looking at Anya with appreciation. "Thank you."  
  
She nodded with a smile.   
  
Something tightened in Spike's chest, watching Xander disappear out of the apartment in an attempt to stop the poofter from leaving. First thing Spike would do when Xander returned, hand in hand with his sodding boyfriend, was to kick his sorry bum out. There was no bloody way Spike would play second fiddle.   
  
He shook his head, noticing the Scoobies staring at him with straight expressions, except a grinning Anya.   
  
Spike shifted slightly. "So… I'm all right."  
  
They nodded silently.  
  
"Well, then." He grabbed his cake and walked out of the door.   
  
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
  
The airport was jammed with people, and looking for Dana would be like looking for a ghost at day. Xander tried to rack his brain to remember where Dana said his parents lived. Though there was a possible chance the flight wouldn't go directly there; he'd probably go anywhere before heading toward his state, just to get out of Sunnydale. He was walking around in the mass of people like a lost dog, taking in the different expressions on the travelers' faces. Children chatted excitedly, waiting to hop on a plane; men with suitcases sat quietly reading newspapers; a man and a woman kissed passionately as they said their goodbyes.   
  
 _No sign of a large man with vampphobia._  He bit his lower lip desperately, looking around the different faces that surrounded him.   
  
He stopped suddenly when he heard the announcement through the loudspeakers that gate 15 for the flight heading to Louisiana was open now.   
  
Xander found himself running like a lunatic, his eyes on the gate numbers going down from 21 to 15. He found people forming a line before gate 15, but there was no sign of Dana. The possibility that Dana had taken another flight, one that would stop somewhere else, became more plausible. He'd probably left already.   
  
There was a heavy lump in his throat; his head turned from left to right, searching for Dana even as his hopes disintegrated. His heart almost stopped when he caught him walking toward gate 15, pulling along a trolley case. A small, happy laugh escaped Xander's mouth as he approached his ex, feeling relief sweeping over him.   
  
Dana was about to take a step forward in the line when he noticed Xander. His eyes blinked in surprise and his mouth was about to utter a question when the man behind him in line poked him to move along. Dana stepped out of the line and stood before Xander.   
  
"My friends told me," Xander explained. "You were planning to leave without saying goodbye?" He said it jokingly, but something painful swelled inside, making his fake smile waver.   
  
Dana dropped his gaze to the floor. "Figured it'd be easier this way."  
  
They stood still in silence, watching the line move like a ticking clock, warning Xander that the time he had with Dana was getting shorter with each traveler getting into the plane. "Thanks," he blurted out. At Dana's frown, he added, "For the cake. My friends loved it."  
  
Dana nodded, still unable to meet Xander's eyes. "Thought it was the best way to make up for the…" he trailed off, searching for a suitable word.   
  
Xander decided to help him. "The offensiveness?"  
  
Dana smiled. "Yeah." He found the courage to look at him, and Xander could see apology and regret reflected clearly in his gray eyes.   
  
Xander found himself smiling as well. "You also made one for Spike."  
  
Dana shrugged. "Yeah, well…"  
  
Xander's smile grew bigger, and they ended up staring at each other for a while. Xander ached to grab Dana's shoulders and pull him down into a kiss, but knew better than to give in to the impulse.   
  
Dana shifted, breaking the eye contact. "So, uh, how's the basement?"  
  
Xander pondered over telling him the truth or making up a lie, but knew that one more lie would drive Dana away forever. "I'm guessing really bad since my dad kicked me out."  
  
Dana looked at Xander again with wide eyes. A sad smile found its way to Xander's lips as he nodded in conformation. Dana bit back whatever insult he had for Xander's father and replaced it with a more important question, "Where are you staying now?"  
  
Xander opened his mouth and closed it. He didn't want to lie to Dana, but found it too difficult to say the truth.   
  
Realization appeared on Dana's face due to Xander's hesitation, but he said nothing, preferring to glare at the six travelers standing in line for his flight. Xander was sure this was the end of their conversation and waited with dread for Dana to leave him and stand in the line.   
  
"How's that working for you?" Dana's question stunned him, but not as much as the concerned expression. He wasn't judging him, just worried about his comfort.   
  
With an uneasy smile, Xander replied, "No bathroom."  
  
Dana raised an eyebrow. "You chose to live with the undead. Punishment suits the crime."  
  
 _So much for the lack of judging._  "For a changed man, you're still a jerk."  
  
"You know what they say about impersonating a character for so long. You become them."  
  
Xander chuckled. "Yeah, I've pretended to be a clown for years now I've become one." He gave Dana a look. "You know, this is your cue to deny that."  
  
A real, genuine smile curled up Dana's lips. "I'm gonna miss you, Xander. I've only known you for two weeks but you're very… unique."  
  
Xander's chest tightened. "No one's ever said that about me. At least as a compliment."  
  
Dana's gaze went to the last traveler getting inside the plane. "I have to go." He extended a hand to Xander, who stared at it numbly. A handshake was so formal. And they were more than that. He accepted Dana's hand reluctantly, and felt himself about to break down when Dana squeezed his hand hard.   
  
With one last sad look, Dana headed to gate 15.   
  
"Dana," Xander called after him, and Dana looked at him questioningly over his shoulder. "Vampires aren't just exclusive to Sunnydale."  
  
Dana's expression became sad again. "I know."   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
It was like déjà vu, except not quite. Xander's stuff forming a pile outside in a cool night was exactly the same, but the two punky vampires digging at his things definitely weren't. "Hey! That's my shirt you're laughing at," he exclaimed with offense.   
  
Blond Punk Vampire flung the shirt behind his shoulder and pointed at him with ridicule while bursting into a storm of laughter with his buddy.   
  
Xander glowered at them. "What?" He looked down at himself. White Hawaiian shirt dotted with colored leaves, baggy pants, and flip-flop sandals. His cheeks flushed red. Did he say goodbye to Dana while wearing  _this_?!  _This_  was the last image of him in Dana's mind. All thoughts about Dana returning for him were smashed to pieces.   
  
He glared at the laughing vampires. "Kutten vests and bondage pants? We've just reached the new millennium and you're stuck in the eighties?"   
  
They stopped laughing immediately, looking at him with shock.  
  
Xander pointed at Redhead Punky. "Nice fan on your head. You think you could visit during summer? Gets really hot in California."   
  
Blondie's nostrils flared. "Are you mocking us?"  
  
Xander crossed his arms. "You catch on so quickly."  
  
Blondie took a threatening step forward. "I also get hungry so quickly."   
  
"I'm not afraid of a bunch of fake punks." He unquestionably was; he took a frightened step backward.   
  
"Fake?" Redhead growled.   
  
Heartbeat starting to quicken, Xander pointed a finger at Spike's crypt. "Wanna see a real punk? He's inside the crypt behind you."  _Where the hell are you, Spike?_  
  
Blondie glanced behind him and then back at Xander. "Maybe some other time. We're really hungry, you know."  
  
Xander gave a shaky nod. "Totally understandable." He pointed behind him. "And I think it's understandable for me to run away now."  
  
They nodded. "Completely."  
  
Giving a small timid grin, Xander turned and started to flee as fast as he could, thinking that if Dana saw him right now, he'd take the higher ground.  _Stop_  thinking about Dana when running away from vampires! He knew they'd catch him sooner than later, so he made a desperate attempt to jump over the tombstone standing in his way. His knee hit the top painfully and he ended up collapsing on the ground, holding his stinging knee.   
  
Blondie was roaring in his face in an instant. His fangs the most visible things Xander could see. Instead of feeling their sharp edges ripping at his flesh, dust was suddenly in his eyes and mouth. He ended up rubbing his eyes and coughing, hearing a loud scream before the sound "poof".   
  
Xander blinked his teary eyes at Spike's stony expression, and then glared. "Took your sweet time, huh." He waited to be helped up, but Spike showed no indication of that.   
  
"What are you doing here?" Spike's voice was creepily hollow and cold.   
  
"What am I doing here?" Xander asked incredulously, getting up with difficulty. "I live with you." He pointed an angry finger at the pile in front of Spike's crypt. "And why is my stuff out for all the stray vamps to laugh at?"   
  
Spike ignored his question, his gaze searching around the cemetery. "Where's Captain Planet?"  
  
"Dana? Why would he be…" He paused, narrowing his eyes at Spike. "You thought I went to the airport to beg him to get back together?" He let out a laugh at how ridiculous that sounded.   
  
Spike licked his lower lip in embarrassment and gave a weak shrug.   
  
Xander slapped his shoulder. "Help me get my stuff inside, you moron."   
  
Wordlessly, they walked toward the crypt entrance, except Xander was limping and Spike - the bastard - didn't even offer a shoulder to lean on. Standing in front of the big number of boxes, Xander felt a sudden exhaustion crawl inside him. After spending his night running in an airport and away from vampires and hitting his knee against a tombstone, he didn't have the energy to lift boxes.   
  
Spike took a hold of one of Xander's posters. "You know, some of this junk is, well, junk."  
  
Xander shook a finger at him. "Stop mocking my geeky property."  
  
"Wasn't mocking." Spike turned the poster of Van Dam which was very wrinkled and torn in the middle.   
  
Xander sighed. "I had to drink three bottles of coke, each in one swallow, to own this poster."   
  
Spike tossed it in the box and stared at Xander's shirt. "Speaking of junk, I thought you'd never wear that again after I slipped it on my sexy body."  
  
Xander hugged himself in an attempt to protect his beloved shirt. "I washed it every day; it's all cleansed from vamp cooties." He stared lovingly at the green and orange leaves. "Plus, it's a nice shirt."  
  
Spike scoffed. "Maybe to the whelp who shagged the dipstick."   
  
Xander let out an annoyed grunt. "Stop with the spite. No one throws snide remarks as much as you."   
  
Spike smirked. "Guess that says more about you than me."  
  
Xander bent down to pick up a box, wincing when his knee started to sting again. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"You like them loud and obnoxious. You get a jolt from being put down."  
  
Xander dropped the box and stood face to face with Spike. "Dana  _never_  put me down. He always thought I was special." His lips trembled as he stared hard into Spike's blue eyes. "Until you messed it up."  
  
Spike's lips tightened and his body stiffened. Already feeling guilty about what he'd said, Xander busied himself with hurling his boxes into the crypt. He could see Spike helping him silently and felt another pang of regret. Spike didn't deserve that. But Xander couldn't help himself whenever Spike talked badly about Dana. Things hadn't worked out between them, but that didn't cancel out the fact that Dana had been so good to him. That meant that no one got to badmouth him.   
  
Watching Spike carrying in the last box of his stuff, Xander knew he had to smooth things over with Spike. After all, he was letting him stay in his crypt. He found the white box that used to hold the cake Dana had made for Spike. It was empty.   
  
"I see you ate it all," he commented, watching Spike drop the box next to its friends.   
  
Spike looked at the empty cake box with embarrassment. Xander knew that if he was a human, his face would have turned into a tomato. "It was… moist."   
  
Xander stopped himself from making snide comments, reminding himself that he was making an apology to Spike for the way he'd just spoken to him. He saw a large bag next to Dana's box with a small red dragon on it. "Is that Chinese take-out?"   
  
Spike looked somewhere else. "Uh, yeah."  
  
The bag was obviously more than one person would need. Xander began looking through the containers, noticing some of his favorites had been ordered. That was… weird. Also, unexpected. That was unexpectedly weird. Despite that, Xander was touched by the gesture and didn't know what to say. Except he did. "But you thought I wouldn't be coming back."  
  
Spike waved an aggravated hand. "Don't get all sentimental. It didn't cost me anything."  
  
"Wait, you stole it?"  
  
Spike whipped toward Xander with a fierce look. "I resent that. I bought it fair and square with Giles' money."  
  
Xander raised his eyebrows.   
  
Spike pursed his lips. "His fault for leaving it exposed on the kitchen counter."  
  
"I suppose." Xander gave him a lopsided smile. "Thanks."   
  
"C'mon, let's take care of your knee. I can smell the blood from here." Spike grabbed some gauze and placed it on the table next to the couch. Xander frowned when Spike stood awkwardly in front of him before he realized that Spike wanted him to shimmy out of his pants. He draped his arm around Spike's shoulder and let himself be led to the couch. A pained hiss fled his mouth each time the fabric brushed against his injured knee, glad when they arrived at the couch and he could lean against it to remove them. He looked down at the long line of blood spots glistening throughout the scratched skin and felt relieved that the injury was minor.   
  
Spike crouched before him and started treating the wound. Xander stared at him, feeling both moved and uncomfortable. He always came down on Spike for speaking badly about Dana, because he'd always seen Dana as so many steps above Spike. While Dana had been good to him, he couldn't handle the reality of Xander's life. He'd left, and was probably never coming back. Spike was here. Dana had done so much for Xander, and that made him seem more special, but Xander couldn't help but notice all the things Spike was offering him now: a home, food, comfort and protection. Spike was taking care of him now just like Dana had done. But unlike Dana, Spike wasn't running away. He was here to stay.   
  
"Spike?" he said after a hesitation.   
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Will you go out with me?"  
  
"Where?"  
  
"On a date?"  
  
Spike's hands stopped what they were doing and Spike looked up at him, astonished. "Oh."  
  
Blood rushed to Xander's cheeks and he busied himself playing with the last button in his shirt. "Yeah."  
  
There was a long, thick moment of silence and Xander began to curse himself. Spike was a century old! He didn't do dates. His idea of a relationship was probably all domestic with lots of sex. Xander waited for the scornful laughter to start.   
  
"Okay."  
  
Xander stared at Spike, shocked with his mouth open, but Spike just returned to his task.   
  
"Good," he replied, feeling a smile lifting the corners of his lips.   
  
  


~*~*~*~

 


	8. Suits and Tweed

  
  
  


  
**Lovable Losers**

 

**Chapter Eight: Suits and Tweed**   


  
  
  
  
  
The sky was dark blue, clear of clouds and stars. There was nothing but the moon to shed light on the empty cemetery. Spike stared at the long lines of tombstones through the smoke rising from his cigarette. Beneath them were dead men and women who were either graced with a peaceful death or doomed to a life of unfulfilled immortality, unless Buffy got to them first. Something Spike would like to prevent at the moment.   
  
He glanced back at his crypt, visualizing Xander fast asleep on the coffin which he'd managed to turn into a semi-comfortable bed. The last conversation they'd had played in his head, leaving a heavy weight on his chest. He returned his gaze to the inscribed headstones and calculated the ages of the people underneath. Most of them were really young and yet more experienced in dating than Spike was.   
  
It had been so long since Spike was turned and his memories of his mortal life were somewhat vague, but he could clearly remember that he'd never gone on a date. As a vampire, he was never interested in getting to know his victims. He just shagged them and killed them.  _Now those were the days_ , he smiled nostalgically.   
  
His knowledge of dating stemmed from watching too much TV, and he could tell it wasn't really a complicated procedure. He obviously knew the purpose behind dating: getting to know the person. But he already knew Xander, and Xander already knew him. So, what was the point?   
  
The whole idea of dating was preposterous, an obstacle to stall them from shagging their brains out. Damn him for fancying a teenage mortal, they were always sentimental with superficial and naïve ideas about relationships.   
  
Suddenly, Spike's ear picked a faint voice singing something he'd never heard.  _Bollocks!_ He could pick that appalling pitch from a choir of voices. Spike's face crumpled as he tossed his cigarette to the ground and slipped from the tombstone to grind it out.   
  
The terrible singing stopped, and he could sense the Slayer walking cautiously toward him. Let her stake him, it was the best way to get out of this sodding date predicament.   
  
He could see her figure approaching from between the trees and bushes. Wearing a smirk, Spike gave her his back, crossed his arms and waited for the attack. He couldn't help the chuckle that broke out of his mouth when she suddenly stopped in her tracks.   
  
"Spike," she said in absolute disappointment.   
  
He turned around, facing her. "You couldn't tell it was me? Starting to lose your touch, I see."   
  
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I don't have a special sense for you, Spike. You vampires vibrate the same." She hopped on a tombstone and played with her feet, her gaze desperately searching the cemetery.   
  
"Slow night?" Spike asked, sitting on the tombstone next to hers.   
  
"If I'd known there would be no vampires, I'd have spent the night sleeping like a normal person."   
  
Spike shot her a look of offense. "I'm a vampire."  
  
She gave him a humoring look. "A vampire worth staking."  
  
"I’m holding your friend hostage in there. I can do whatever I want with him."   
  
"Can't," Buffy said confidently.   
  
"I can get someone to do the harming," Spike said with a dangerous smirk.   
  
Buffy scowled. "Well, you can, but Xander believes you wouldn't. For some weird reason, he seems to trust you."  
  
A feeling of embarrassment fluttered in his stomach, but Spike distracted himself with images of Buffy's dead body sprawled on the ground. The image of her head separated from her body with a large spot of blood underneath was his favorite. He brought out his lighter and pack of cigarette, thinking that a smoke would lessen his thirst for blood. After the first puff of smoke, his eyes caught Buffy casting several glances back at the crypt, and when she noticed him looking at her, she focused her gaze on one of the tombstones.   
  
Spike pursed his lips. "That's why you're here? To check up on him."  
  
A bashful smile rose to her lips before she looked at him. "That obvious, huh?"   
  
Spike was taken in by her hazel eyes, similar to Xander's, except the green dominated the brown. She was beautiful, and if she weren't the sodding Slayer, he would have probably considered fanaticizing about her. Turning his gaze away in disturbance, he inhaled a large amount of smoke. "Singing on patrol chases vampires away," he said between puffs of smoke.   
  
"I can't amuse myself?"   
  
Spike didn't reply, busying himself with smoking. He could tell she was throwing her stake in the air and catching it repeatedly.   
  
"Now, why are you out this late?" she asked in a mischievous voice.   
  
Spike released a great cloud of smoke. "I'm a vampire. I sleep in the morning."   
  
"You're guarding Xander, aren't you?"   
  
Spike turned around to face her. "No, I'm not," he spit out defensively. Her all knowing smirk was maddening. "I was… thinking."  
  
She hopped down off the gravestone. "Can't you do that inside?"  
  
"I need fresh air."  
  
She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You're a vampire. You need no air."  
  
 _Nosy bitch,_  Spike thought, his lips twisted in annoyance. He spun on the tombstone, giving her his back, the sight of the crypt reminded him of how pathetic he was. He took a long, hard drag on his cigarette, letting the smoke curl around in his dead lungs before slowly expelling it.   
  
All of a sudden, small hands spun him around again and all he could see were Buffy's frighteningly gorgeous eyes. "C'mon, tell me. What is it?"  
  
Spike pushed her away a little too roughly and was rewarded with a headache. He rubbed his forehead with a wince and glared at her. "You're that bored?"  
  
She nodded. "Yep."  
  
Wearily, Spike rested his elbow on his thigh, still rubbing his forehead, and he could see his cigarette dangling between his fingers. "Xander…" he couldn't finish; he felt too embarrassed and pathetic.   
  
"Yeah?"  
  
He released a frustrated sigh and looked anywhere but Buffy's smug face. "He asked me out on a date."  
  
There was no response. It was probably safe to look at her. Spike grimaced when he saw Buffy trying to stifle her laughs.  
  
"Nothing to laugh about," he snapped. "Bad enough he left me in a tight spot."  
  
Buffy's face was clear with shock all of a sudden. "Wait. Are you asking me for tips on dating?"  
  
Spike scoffed. "Please. The girl who chases men away? I'm not that desperate." His gaze shifted from her offended face to the tombstones lining the grass behind her. "I was waiting for one of them to tell me."   
  
She looked over her shoulder to where he indicated and a frightened look crossed her face. "You  _are_  that desperate."  
  
"You're telling me, never thought I'd end up going on silly dates with some human boy."  
  
"If Xander is just some human boy to you, then I…"  
  
"Stop spouting nonsense and get on with it."  
  
She crossed her arms again. "Thought you didn't need my help."  
  
"And I still don't."  
  
"You were a human once Spike, you know the drill."  
  
"I don't date. I just shag. That's my drill."   
  
Her lips curled in disgust. "I shudder at the thought of the human you."  
  
He'd set himself on fire before she knew a thing about the pathetic cockup he used to be. "Not at all different from this." Which was true. He hung his head in shame.   
  
"What's the definition of date in the vampire dictionary?"  
  
Spike shrugged. "Nothing. We either kill or shag."  
  
"Yeah, well, in the human world, we like to know each other before jumping in the sack." She looked at him pointedly. "Then no one gets hurt."  
  
Spike narrowed his eyes and jumped off the tombstone. He stood face to face with her and smirked down at her. "What do you call Parker?"  
  
She glared at him before turning away. "Goodbye, Spike."  
  
Spike grabbed her arm desperately. "Wait, wait. We know each other. So, there's no need for this whole thing."  
  
Buffy spun around to face him, her hair slapping against her back. "What's Xander's favorite color?"  
  
Spike was taken aback. "What?"  
  
She took a confident step forward. "How many girls has he gone out with?"  
  
Spike's face lit up. "One! Anya."  
  
"Wrong." Buffy smiled, satisfied. "See? You don't know him well."   
  
Desperation was back, and Spike wanted to wipe that infuriating smirk off of her face. He searched for a cigarette, but his pack was empty. Cursing under his breath, he eyed Buffy with affected boredom. "So, what should I do?"  
  
"Spike, just take him to a restaurant and talk."  
  
Spike screwed up his face. "That's it? What about chocolate and flowers?"   
  
"Xander is a guy. Though I think he'd appreciate the chocolate."  
  
He started pondering this. "Restaurant and talk, eh? Sounds bloody boring." He turned around, considering his options. Which restaurant would he take Xander to? Harmony liked those posh restaurants, and Spike needed that date to be perfect if he wanted to get a good shag.   
  
"Uh, you're welcome!"   
  
He grinned, hearing Buffy's disapproving shout. There was something to be said about his joy over irritating her.  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
Xander held a couple of his  _Green Lantern_  comics and lamented the great adventures he would never be able to read. Almost half of his comic collections were soaked to destruction and he'd have to work twice his normal shifts at the restaurant to buy them all again. With a weary sigh, he said his farewells to his beloved issues and placed them gently next to the big pile of his ruined goods. He knew sorting over his things would give him great misery and headache; especially since he was going to store everything he owned, including his clothes, inside the coffin he was sleeping on.  
  
He grabbed a stack of folded shirts and gazed down at the broken skeleton inside the coffin. "Sorry to disrespect you in your eternal slumber, Mr. Harper, but there's no other place for my things. I hope you understand." He laid his shirts on Mr. Harper's skull and went back to get the rest of his clothes.   
  
Bending down to get his neatly folded underwear, shiny black shoes were suddenly at sight. Xander's gaze traveled up the fancy black pants to the fancy black jacket and the fancy red tie ending at Spike's fancy smug expression.   
  
A few shocked blinks and Xander ended up sitting on his butt.  
  
Spike flashed a white-teeth smile and a twinkle sparked in his eye. "You like?"  
  
Xander blinked some more.   
  
Spike's eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. "Why aren't you dressed?" He looked at Xander's clothes on the floor and an appalled expression dominated his face.   
  
"Dressed?" Xander blurted out, distracted by the red rose peaking out of Spike's jacket pocket.   
  
Spike held an orange Hawaiian shirt with the tips of his fingers and gazed at it in disgust. "Yes, it's time for the date."  
  
"Date?"  
  
Orange shirt met the floor, and Spike narrowed his eyes at him. "Didn't you read my note?"  
  
"What note?"  
  
"Didn't you see your milk and Captain Crunch cereal arranged on the table in front of the TV?"   
  
"Yeah, I thought that was weird."  
  
A hurt frown creased Spike's forehead. "You didn't think it was romantic?"  
  
"I did," Xander said unconvincingly after a moment of hesitation. He added a nervous smile to sell his lie.   
  
"Just because I'm a vampire it doesn’t mean I'm a caveman. Ask Drusilla."  
  
"I'll pass," Xander said dryly, getting up on his feet. He dusted his behind, earning a cloud of dirt. "So, um, where did you leave the note?"  
  
"In the bowl, so you won't miss it."  
  
Xander stopped dusting at once and turned wide eyes to Spike. "You, uh, left it in the bowl where I pour my milk and cereal?"  
  
Spike's jaw dropped. "You ate my note?"   
  
Xander scratched his temple. He should have known something was odd when the cereal tasted like wood pulp. And here he was going to sue the company.  
  
Spike stared at him for three or more seconds before he shook his head. "All right. No harm done."  
  
Xander glared. "No harm done? I ate paper."  
  
"Not my fault you're a gluttonous piggy."  
  
"I'm still a growing boy," he said defensively. He eyed Spike's suit again, something so off about it. Spike shouldn't be wearing suits; they didn't suit him, especially ones that were a size bigger than his usual wear. He also seemed to have squeezed all the gel he had on his head. How was it that his head glistened madly in the crypt's faint light?   
  
Xander crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Spike. "Where did you steal that suit?"  
  
Spike looked like someone slapped him with a metal board. "I'm beyond shocked and repulsed that you…"  
  
Xander lifted his eyebrows. "Giles?"   
  
Spike's lip stuck out in defense. "I borrowed it, thank you very much."  
  
"It's not borrowing if Giles doesn't know about it."  
  
"I left him a note."  
  
"In his teacup?"  
  
"Shut up and get ready or else we'll miss our reservation."  
  
Xander's jaw dropped, completely taken aback. "You… you made reservation? In an actual restaurant?"  
  
Spike shook his head. "Your faith in me is truly stirring. Now, do you have something trendy in there or should we borrow another suit from Giles?"   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
Xander pulled on his tie, trying to loosen it a little. They had to stop at Giles' first to "borrow" another suit and found no one in the apartment. As usual, Giles didn't lock the door, so they had snuck in easily. From the smells of perform, Giles and Anya were apparently out on a date of their own. Giles owned two suits, and sadly for Xander, he was obviously wearing that other suit to his date. There was nothing in his closet but flannel and tweed. Xander and Spike had blown up at each other in Giles' bedroom for what seemed to be half an hour: Spike wanted him to wear the tweed, and Xander swore he'd never be caught dead wearing it. They had to rock-paper-scissor their way out of this dilemma. Spike had won, several times, obviously by cheating, for all Xander knew he's used some vampire power that helped him read Xander's mind.   
  
"If anyone knows about this," he gritted to Spike, still pulling on his tie. God, it must be oppressing the veins in his neck.   
  
"Keep your gob shut and get a move on, will you? We're already late."   
  
Xander had no idea how Spike could walk with a good posture, even though he was walking faster than him. Xander scurried behind him, head drooping and shoulders slumping, looking like an oversized, startled dog.   
  
He slammed against Spike's back when the latter stopped walking unexpectedly. After a few blinks and head rubbing, he noticed Spike's deceitful charming smile. "We're here."  
  
Xander looked up and stiffened. "Excellent choice for a restaurant, Spike." He gave a tight smile, feeling anger simmering behind his teeth. After being forced to wear tweed, this was just the lowest low that Spike had ever got, especially the tie. The jerk had tightened it too much and Xander was wheezing for breath.   
  
Spike was smart enough to notice his distress. He even had the nerve to look offended. "What? Harmony said it was the best in Sunnydale."  
  
Xander pointed a finger at the nicely decorated sign. "It's the restaurant I work in, Butthead."  
  
Spike shrugged. "It’s your night off, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Then it's no problem."  
  
"You don't get it…" And Xander was about to let him have it by explaining, of course, even though pummeling him was tempting, but his tie was too tight his brain didn't get enough oxygen to think. He almost yanked his spine out of his body with the way he kept pulling on the evil tie.   
  
Spike rolled his eyes, slapping Xander's hand away, and with no effort unfastened his tie and tied it again a bit looser than it was supposed to be. He took a step back and smirked.  
  
Xander did his hardest not to look offended. "It's also expensive," he grumbled, talking about the restaurant.   
  
Spike scoffed. "You're the one who asked me on a date. You pay."  
  
Xander shook his head with a sigh, and he thought he'd be able to buy those  _Green Lantern_  issues by the end of the month. Spike offered him his arm. Xander shot him an incredulous glare, walking past him into the restaurant. He didn't need vampire ears to hear Spike's grunt.   
  
Lowie arrived with a polite smile plastered on his face; chin up high, too high for his eyes to see who he was greeting. "Hello, how…" His sharp eyes widened when he saw him. "Xander?" He wasn't sure, looking him up and down, apparently Xander in tweed wasn't so recognizable.   
  
Xander gave a sheepish nod. "Hey, Lo."  
  
Lowie's shocked gaze dissolved into a look of displeasure when he noticed Spike. "Oh, and the insufferable addict."   
  
Spike held his hands up. "Free of drugs. You can search me over."  
  
Lowie returned his gaze to Xander, his eyes glinting with disappointment and disgust. "Nice to see you moved on. A bit too quick, don't you think?"  
  
Xander's lips were a thin line. "I'm a customer here, Lo. It's better if you treat me like one."  
  
Lowie stared at him for a while that Xander thought they'd be kicked out, but instead he nodded and gestured to them to follow him. "Let me show you to your table."  
  
Xander glanced at Spike uncertainly, only to see him moving forward after Lowie, obviously not sharing Xander's uneasiness. His chest tightened as he walked behind them, feeling cruel eyes on him. He knew it was a bad idea dining here, especially since it was already too difficult being here at work hours. Every inch of this restaurant reminded him of Dana; everywhere he looked he saw something that made him think of Dana. He struggled to block out the memories and tried to focus his attention entirely on work, but it was too damn difficult.   
  
He ached so bad, knowing that he was the one who drove Dana away. Everybody knew it, and they made sure Xander knew it. The strained conversations held words with touches of hatred, and the spiteful glances that were shot from all corners. Lowie had been extra harsh to him whenever he made a mistake. It was already unbearable being here with all the Dana memories that jumped out at him from every corner, and now he had to put up with the abuse from his boss and colleagues as well.   
  
Lowie stopped at an empty table in the middle of the restaurant where Sergio was standing obediently. Sergio pulled out a chair for Spike, who sat down with poise, smiling his thanks in a weird well-mannered fashion that didn't suit him.   
  
Sergio's attendance to Xander wasn't as graceful. He deliberately stomped on his foot and didn't pull out his chair enough for him to be able to sit down. Xander heaved a sigh and helped himself to his chair, ignoring the childish behavior by his co-worker.   
  
"Sergio will be your waiter this evening," Lowie announced with a nod to Sergio. He was about to leave when he stopped himself to give a pointed glance at Xander. "Oh, and the dessert menu have changed."  
  
Xander's stomach bottomed out. "You found a replacement for Dana?"  
  
Lowie's eyes narrowed in contemplation. "I'm not the only one."  
  
Xander watched his boss leave and swallowed heavily. Someone was in the kitchen doing Dana's job. He could barely hear Spike's offended grunt through his distress, "Oi. The wanker was  _my_  replacement."  
  
Xander bit his lip, feeling a bile rise in his throat. "Let it go, Spike," he said softly.   
  
"He should get his facts straight," Spike gritted out in annoyance.   
  
Xander stared down at his empty plate, his memory taking him back a couple of weeks ago when he placed a similar plate on Lowie's table. His table waiting skills were as bad as his speaking French or doing math, probably as bad as he was in all school subjects. Without Dana by his side, he wouldn't have gotten the job and now, he was here and Dana wasn't.   
  
His thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat on top of his head. "So, how about I spill your drink on your lap? You'll get a taste of what you put your customers through." Sergio said with a glint of mischief in his eye.   
  
Xander really didn't have time or energy for that. "Sergio, what's the new pastry chef like?"  
  
Sergio appeared a little taken aback by the question, but shook off his shock quickly. "He's kind of competitive. He doesn't like our seafood chef."  
  
"Teddy?" Xander lifted his eyebrows. "Why?"  
  
"Some people are just strange." There was something in Sergio's tone that indicated he meant him as well, Xander's suspicions were proven right when Sergio cast a disgusted glance Spike's way. "Trading Dana for that… the world had become insane."  
  
Spike looked about to explode, so Xander spoke right away, "Thank you, Sergio, we'll call you once we figure out what to eat."  
  
Sergio twisted his lips in displeasure and walked away.  
  
A low growl coming from Spike startled Xander, his heart skipped a beat knowing that Spike would make a scene and probably get a bunch of zings from his disapproving chip. Xander pleaded Spike with his eyes, nodding at the menu on his side. Spike regarded him with a long stare before he reluctantly complied and began skimming over the menu.   
  
Relief flooding in him, Xander took his menu and gazed at its contents. He'd automatically skip pages to the pizza section, but he hadn't had the heart to open the menu. Something was missing; the excitement and thrill of looking for the perfect dish. He'd been working in this restaurant for two weeks and was able to memorize the whole menu by heart. He knew what the best pizza was, the best salad, the best pasta, and the best… dessert. His shoulders slumped a bit.   
  
"I don't suppose they serve blood here."   
  
Xander blinked out of his thoughts and glared at Spike.  
  
"I had you going there, didn't I?"   
  
Xander rolled his eyes with a smile.  
  
"I've been here before, remember?"  
  
 _When you almost got me fired,_  Xander was about to say. "Right. You were kicked out before you got to eat anything."  
  
Spike shrugged. "Not a big loss. I prefer them young and with red fluids."   
  
Xander raised his eyebrows. "Like me?"  
  
A smile spread across Spike's lips. "Well, if you offer…"  
  
Xander pushed the menu away. "I think I've lost my appetite." A tray passed the line of his sight, filled with different kinds of dessert, most of them unfamiliar to Xander. Rick, probably the only waiter who still talked to him without a bug caught in his throat, put a plate of Cherry Cassata Torte on the table next to theirs. The chocolate sauce dripped lines on the sides making it look more delicious than it possibly was. But it wasn't Dana's, and worst of all, everybody was going to compare and contrast between Dana's work and the new pastry chef.   
  
"So, uh, what's your favorite color?"  
  
Xander blinked, looking at Spike like he was never there in the first place. "What?"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes in annoyance. "You don't know  _my_  favorite color."  
  
 _Colors? When did we start talking about colors? When did we start talking at all? Okay, that sounded bad._  Xander's jaw set nervously, briefly thinking about the question. "Red?"  
  
Spike smacked the table. "I'm not a one track mind. Not everything about me is about blood."  
  
Xander smirked. "White?"  
  
Spike narrowed his eyes. "You dirty little boy." A smile formed on his lips. "It has nothing to do with sex either."  
  
"Black?"  
  
"No."  
  
Xander blinked. "But you always wear black. Your suit is black."  
  
"That…" A pause. "Actually, that makes sense."  
  
Xander grinned. "So?"  
  
Spike scratched his temple. "In all honesty, I never really thought about favorite colors. I guess it's black." He shrugged. "You?"  
  
Xander bit his lip, thinking about it. "Nothing specific. I love all colors."  
  
"That explains those bright colored shirts."  
  
"Probably." From the corner of his eye, Xander could see Sergio complaining to Lowie about them. He'd never know that service around here was horrible, rushing costumers to give their orders? Since when was that their policy?   
  
He nodded to Spike's menu. "Lo is watching us like a madman, better order something."  
  
"I'll probably order what I wanted that last time. Didn't get the chance to eat it."  
  
Xander turned around to wave a hand to Sergio when he caught a sight of a woman drawing a knife to cut a small piece from her sponge cake. In slow motion, he watched as she brought it to her mouth and ate it so slowly savoring the flavor.   
  
Something inside him snapped and he found himself standing hastily, his knees hitting the table. He winced, starting to walk away. "Order me the same."  
  
"Where are you going?" Spike called after him.   
  
"Uh, bathroom." He should have shot Spike a smile, small and forced, but a smile instead of dashing away like a streak of lightening.  _Like I'd be cool enough to be a streak of lightening, more like maniac attacked by a troop of bugs._  The rational thing to do was the last thing on his mind, but he really needed to see with his eyes to believe that it was true.   
  
As he moved closer to the kitchen, he felt like he couldn't breathe. Nerves screeched down his body and clenched his muscles. He carefully peered at Dana's kitchenette and watched the back of the new pastry chef. He had a large frame; broad shoulders and large upper arms, but he appeared shorter than Dana.   
  
A finger poked his shoulder and Xander smacked his palm over his lips to hold back an unmanly yelp. With all the courage he could muster, he turned around to meet Lowie's hard gaze.   
  
He felt his face prickle in shame. "I…"  
  
"It's your day off. You shouldn't be here."  
  
Licking his dry lips, he felt a layer of dead skin, so he curled his lip inward and bit it. "Just wanted to see what he's like," he said in hushed tones.   
  
Lowie's gaze was as hard as his voice. "You'll see him tomorrow."  
  
He looked desperately into Lowie's eyes, searching for a hint of the sadness and emptiness that Xander was feeling. "He's no Dana."  
  
"And you shouldn't expect him to be," Lowie said, taking a deep controlled breath. "I won't allow any comparisons. Don't chase this one off either." He moved a little to place a hand on the low spot of Xander's back and gently led him out of the kitchen. Xander was a tad too surprised to see understanding in Lowie's eyes, albeit very brief, because he pushed Xander toward his table straight away.   
  
Xander had to stop himself before smacking against an upset Sergio who ran to the bathroom area, eyes prickled with tears, hands pulling on his hair.   
  
Xander hurried toward their table. "What happened to Sergio?"  
  
"I ordered in French again," Spike muttered under his breath, not looking at Xander.   
  
Xander blew out a quick gust of breath in exasperation. He had to find Sergio and get this date over with.   
  
"You went to see the new chef, didn't you?"  
  
Feeling a lurch of pure fear, Xander met Spike's hollow blue eyes. He wanted to deny that, but his lips were glued together, and even if he was able to deny it, his raging heartbeat would betray his words.   
  
Spike's face was so hard and condemning, and it hit Xander how awful the situation was. "This was supposed to be our date," Spike said with a voice that dripped with indignation.   
  
Xander gulped. He really screwed this one up. "Yeah, Spike, I'm… look, I'll fix it." He raced to a nearby cabinet and started searching for a specific menu. He grinned when he saw the small red X on one of the menus, grabbed it and jumped to his feet only to smack a tray and knock it off Rick's hands.   
  
The glasses shattered to pieces on the floor and the refreshments made ugly spots on the spotless carpet. Xander directed a sheepish stare at Rick, whose shocked expression dissolved into a look of fury.  _Here goes the only waiter who tolerated me. Now I'm hated by all._  
  
The right thing to do was help Rick clean the mess up, but tonight Xander was not a waiter, just an innocent costumer trying to breathe life into his dying date. He scampered with the menu toward Sergio and pushed it against his chest.   
  
"These are our orders." Xander snatched the menu from Sergio's hands and showed him the inked circles Spike had drawn on some of the dishes the last time he was here.   
  
Sergio's eyes bugged out of their sockets. "You wrote on the menu?"  
  
"Just get the orders." Xander spun Sergio and pushed him forward to the kitchen. He found himself panting heavily, trying to catch a breath. This was the worst date he'd ever gone to, of course he wouldn't tell Spike that. He felt his cheeks growing pink with distress. When he left Spike, he was verging from maniac to psychopathic murderer.   
  
He glanced at their table. Spike appeared quiet and still, and the knife was safely on the table and out of his reach. Besides, there was the beloved chip, if Spike decided to stab him, it would fry him to dust and Spike cherished his unlife.   
  
Dragging his feet, Xander made it back to their table. He just pulled his chair out when Spike burst into laughter.   
  
"What?" Xander sat down, feeling a smile prick at his cheeks. Laughing was a good sign, right?   
  
Spike shook his head, his loud laughter turning into amused chuckles. "Humans are a whiny bunch."  
  
"Again, what?"  
  
Spike nodded his head at the table next to the window. "That couple over there is complaining about why their dense business idea doesn't get funding."   
  
Xander stared at the middle aged couple who sat three tables away from them. "How the hell did you know?"  
  
"Vampire hearing, the only thing going well for me tonight." His voice was thick with sarcasm. Xander found himself sinking in his chair.   
  
Spike's face lit up suddenly. "Housewife whining. That's got to be good."  
  
Xander felt a tug on the corner of his lips. "Stop hearing people's conversations."  
  
Spike eyed him impassively. "Got anything interesting to say?"  
  
That look stung as hard as a slap in the face. "Let's get back to the favorite color conversation."  
  
"Done and over with."  
  
"Favorite food?"  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow.   
  
"Right." His gaze dropped to the tablecloth awkwardly, his fingers playing with the edges.   
  
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to listen to more woes-are-them."   
  
His tone was dry, but when Xander looked at him, Spike appeared amused and interested in people who were not  _him_. Xander reached for the menu halfheartedly and stared at the list of dishes without taking any of them in- he already knew them. What a long night it was going to be.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Spike kicked the crypt door close with the heel of his foot. A laugh escaped his mouth as he filled Xander on all the silly nonsense he'd heard all night at the restaurant. "Poor chit was crying her eyes out 'cause her mummy never had a nickname for her." He leaned against the wall to support himself from falling due to his uncontrollable laughter. "Crying over a nickname."  
  
He wiped away tears of laughter and chuckled softly. "It gets better. Her friend was upset because her husband's nickname for their son was ‘catchier’ than hers." He shook his head. "People are a bunch of twats."   
  
His chuckles died out when he realized that Xander hadn't said a word since they left the restaurant. He watched him take off the tweed silently and place it on the couch and felt a small tick in his jaw. Xander pushed the lid of the coffin open and took out pajamas, doing a good impression of ignoring him.   
  
Spike glanced at the hole leading to the bedroom and wondered if the next step was due now that they'd had their date. He cleared his throat. "Hey, do you…?" he trailed off, unsure why the question felt too hard to ask.   
  
Xander looked at him in confusion, and Spike nodded his head to the bedroom. Following Spike's line of sight silently, Xander started pulling up his pajama pants, ignoring Spike again. "I prefer my coffin, thanks."  
  
A muscle in Spike's jaw worked in irritation. "And you got your knickers in a twist because?"   
  
The ponce kept on putting on his little boy pajamas, not paying him any attention.   
  
Spike took a step forehead. "We went on a date," he said heatedly. "I did what you wanted."  
  
Xander turned around, his eyes burning with anger. "Do you seriously call that a date?"  
  
"Oh, so now I get to hear  _your_  whining." Spike dropped on the couch, wiggling his bum on Giles' ridiculous tweed, enjoying Xander's aggravated stare. He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Go on, I'm in the mood for another dose of laughter."   
  
Xander opened his mouth about to retort and then closed it. He stared levelly at Spike for a moment before he turned around and waved a hand. "Forget it."  
  
Spike smacked his palms on his thighs and stood up. "No, what? Tell me what I did, you ninny." With a fresh burst of anger, he launched himself across the crypt towards Xander and grabbed his arm, spinning him around. Spike's nostrils flared as he looked right into Xander's heated eyes. "Won't be worse than you blowing me off to check on the new oversized replacement," he said wryly.   
  
Xander jerked his arm out of Spike's grip. "So that's why you acted like a jerk? You were jealous?"  
  
Spike threw his hands in the air. "And why not?" he said with a flash of anger. "You were thinking about him all night."  
  
"It's out of my control, Spike. You took me to the restaurant we used to work in together. It was bound to happen."  
  
Feeling his hands closing into tight fists, Spike struggled to look at Xander when he asked, "Do you still fancy him?"  
  
Xander's lip trembled slightly and he was silent long enough for Spike to know the answer.  
  
Spike's fists clenched and his mouth twisted in an angry snarl. "Do you wish he was still here?" he said brutally. "Because I'm starting to think those sods were right. I am a rebound." Shoving his fists into his pockets, he turned on his heel and jumped into the hole.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

 


	9. When Losers Date

  
  


  
**Lovable Losers**

 

**Chapter Nine: When Losers Date**   


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Giles was dead serious about this new demon; something to do with its size and it seemed that the demon would present a new challenging challenge for Buffy. Every attempt to lighten the mood was met with one stern lecture from Giles. They researched in dead silence that was only disturbed by Anya's shrill voice coming from the kitchen area. Giles wouldn't snap at her, though. Not only did she get the “girlfriend free pass”, but she was also trying to make a traditional Shepherd's Pie for Giles. She had even promised to make it better than Giles' mom.   
  
Xander could see from the corner of his eye that Buffy and Willow were trying to get his attention, but he knew better than to provoke Giles. He was always the victim of Giles' wrath, and he knew all too well how scary Giles got when a serious research session was interrupted by pointless blabbing.   
  
He had gotten through seven pages on Boretz demons, whose species were known for their bad odor and their poisonous bite. They had the habit of dressing up like transients to prey on homeless people. Xander flipped through the pages in boredom until he landed on a photo of their teeth. His nose crinkled in disgust- they definitely lacked hygiene.   
  
"Honey, how much cheese should I use?" Anya called from the kitchen.  
  
Giles jerked to his feet, eyes wide with fear, and literally jumped over the couch standing between him and the kitchen, racing towards Anya. Xander let out an impressed sound as he watched Giles push the cheese jar far away from his beloved childhood dish. "Never in the history of the British Isles has cheese ever come close to…"  
  
"How'd the date go?" Buffy suddenly whispered in his ear, drawing him away from the spectacle of Giles' comically affronted face.  
  
He turned his gaze to his excited, giggling best friends. It was sad to see these anticipating faces crushed with disappointment.  _Not._    
  
"It was a disaster," he said bluntly.   
  
"Knew it," Buffy said with a proud smile, looking inappropriately too happy with herself. She ducked her head and stuck out her tongue when Xander gave her a look.   
  
Willow's green eyes were big with concern. "Why?"  
  
Xander gave a half shrug, finding it easy to look at the Boretz demon's ugly face. "Dana issues."  
  
Buffy and Willow shared a look, leaning back in their chairs. "Poor Spike," Willow whispered, looking hesitantly at Xander.   
  
Xander felt his face burn with shame and anger. "He wasn't the one ignored for the Hamilton’s Gossip Hour."   
  
Buffy piped. "What's the gossip?"  
  
Xander's angry face fell as he stared at Willow's knowing expression. He knew he wasn't being fair since Spike wouldn't have went bananas over boring tittle-tattle if Xander hadn't been swept away with Dana angst. His chest tightened painfully, not even the sight of an exasperated Giles escorting Anya out of the kitchen could cheer him up. Poor Anya dropped on the couch with a sad pout on her lips.   
  
A hand squeezed his arm gently, and he was caught in Willow's sympathetic green eyes. "There will be other dates," she said soothingly.   
  
That snapped Anya out of her petty party and an excited grin blossomed on her lips. "You went on a date with Spike? Does that mean we can double date?"   
  
Bitterness pinched his lips and he forced himself to shake his head.   
  
Anya made a face, knitting her thin eyebrows in surprise. "What happened?"   
  
Xander sighed, feeling too exhausted to explain.   
  
"We had a fantastic date yesterday," Anya announced with a satisfied smile, and if he didn't know her innocent nature, he'd have thought she was flaunting her perfect date in his face. "It depends on the place. Where did you go?"  
  
Xander sighed again. "Avanti Ristorante."  
  
Anya wrinkled her nose and cringed. "You took a vampire to a  _restaurant_? They don't serve blood."  
  
Xander threw his head against the back of the couch. "Where should I take him then?"  
  
"Somewhere a vampire would enjoy."  
  
Willow frowned. "That does make sense." She turned to Xander, looking optimistic. "Where would Spike want to go?"  
  
"Somewhere trashy with blood and goo," Buffy muttered. Her face lit up with a bright grin. "Like the dumpster."  
  
Xander was about to shoot her a look of disapproval when Willow grabbed his face and forced him to look straight at her. "Somewhere that says death," she stressed, trying to get him to focus. "Take him to a scary movie."  
  
Xander gently removed Willow's hands from his face. "I don't think Spike would want to be at a movie theater."  
  
He leaned against the couch and pondered over that thought. They had a point. Spike wouldn't like the formality of fancy restaurants. He was a century old first class beast who got off on blood and murder. He'd like to go to a place with an atmosphere of darkness and gloom.   
  
Xander stared at the faces that gazed upon him with expectation. "So, death, huh?"  
  
Willow and Anya smiled. Buffy shook her head. "Now I realize why I don't miss dating a vampire."   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
This night was full of clouds and relentless wind blew against the trees, brushing down the branches and leaves. Spike noted the way Xander tried not to shiver as he struggled to keep the mattress pad from flying away. Xander's unsuccessful attempts were met with a frustrated groan and a glare directed at him. Spike rolled his eyes and dropped on his bum, using it to hold one end of the cotton fabric while Xander sat on the other end. The middle of mattress billowed between them and Xander smacked it down with the biggest basket Spike had ever seen.   
  
Xander's grin was too goofy for words and yet something about it made Spike want to smile along with him, but he didn't. He was somewhat disturbed with the colored plastic plates Xander brought out of the basket. There was a terrifying, blue-eyed, long-nosed, grinning sponge on them, plates one would see at birthday parties if the parents wanted to scar their children for life.   
  
"So, uh, what is it that we're supposed to do?"   
  
"Enjoy ourselves." Xander caught the plates before they flew away never to be seen again. He handed them to Spike to keep them safe.   
  
Spike held them upside down so he’d not have nightmares. "In a cemetery," he said doubtfully.   
  
Xander put down a big box of fried chicken and a bag of blood. "Got my meal. And got your blood." He started emptying the basket of small ketchup bags, a soda can, and some deposable napkins. The last a few minutes were spent with Spike laughing at Xander as he played cat and mouse with the napkins.   
  
Xander returned with some of the napkins, his face flaming with embarrassment. He put them back inside the basket and released shivering sigh. "So, um, let's eat." He flashed a forced big grin.   
  
Spike nodded. "All right." He poured some blood on one of the plastic plates tugged under his foot to prevent it from flying away with the wind. He reached for a fried chicken, smacking Xander's hand on top of the box. They looked at each other and smiled. Xander withdrew his hand to let Spike take a piece.   
  
Spike dipped the chicken thigh into the blood and took a big bite, frowning when he noticed Xander sitting still and not eating.  
  
A slight tremble passed Xander's body and he difficultly stopped himself, going rigidly still.  
  
Spike swallowed his chicken and indicated his head backwards. "Do you wanna go back into the crypt?"  
  
"Why would I want that?" Xander said through chattering teeth.   
  
"Because you're shivering?"  
  
"With excitement. Man, isn't the cemetery eerie tonight?" He wiggled with glee, shoulders hunched up, teeth still chattering. "All these gravestones with dead people under them? How poetic."   
  
Spike sighed, gazing up at the stars fading behind the clouds. He shut his eyes when Xander caught his plastic plate from taking off. "Let's just eat and get this over with."   
  
Hurt flared in Xander's eyes, and he unconsciously let go of the plate. "What?"  
  
"C'mon, Xander, I wouldn't be caught alive playing picnic in a cemetery."  
  
"This is not a picnic. It's a date."  
  
Spike lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "A white and red furniture pad and a basket with food? It's a picnic."  
  
"What do you want me to do, Spike?" Xander lashed out, hurt shading the anger in his voice. "You didn't like the restaurant and you don't like the cemetery, what the hell do you want?"  
  
Spike opened his mouth to answer when a dark shadow appeared at a distance.   
  
"What?" Xander said. "Don't tell me you're listening to the gossip of the dead?"  
  
 _A vampire_ , Spike noted; one large vampire was walking confidently towards them, about to step out of the shadows, when a hand grabbed his chin and he was staring right in a set of furious hazel eyes.   
  
"Look at me, you jerk!"  
  
Spike pushed him back roughly. "Look behind you, tosser."  
  
Suddenly, Xander was hauled backwards into the other vampire, his head jerked to one side, revealing his bare neck. Spike slapped his hand to his head and pushed himself to his feet to rescue the wanker.   
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
The smoke from his cigarette surrounded him, making it harder to get a clear view of the TV screen, even for a vampire. One cigarette after another without a pause, he had been chain smoking for hours now. The noise coming from the TV went unheard as he could only hear the loud curses in his head. A surge of anger raced over him, so strong that even without the clouds of smoke, he wouldn't be able to see the screen through the haze of frustration. He really wanted to break something, ruin something, throw Xander's things all over the crypt and watch as the poor sod collected them all again.   
  
His cigarette had gone out; he reached for his pack and cursed when he found it empty. Smoking did nothing to ease his bloody fury; maybe a bottle of whisky would do it better. He pushed himself out of the couch with difficulty, having sat there for hours and dragged his feet to the cabinet.   
  
He stopped himself midway when he picked on a movement behind him. He twirled around, ready to clobber the ponce who dared to invade his privacy when all he saw was a purple glow.   
  
His muscles relaxed gradually and a wave of irritation washed over him. He turned around and opened the cabinet, finding a half full whisky bottle. "Thought I kicked you out."   
  
"I didn't come for you" Nesreen said with annoyance. "You're so rude, by the way."  
  
Spike snapped the lid open and poured the nectar of alcohol down his throat, hoping it would wash away his frustration and disgust. Sometimes he forgot why he'd bothered with bloody Xander. The pillock should thank his lucky stars that Spike even noticed him. From one glance, everybody would know he was below Spike's standards, a bump in the road, a glorified booty call, and yet all Spike wanted was shag him senselessly for days and days. And sometimes, he'd think years. He took another long pull on his whisky.   
  
"Where's Xander?" Nesreen asked, looking around from her place by the entrance.   
  
His lips smacked together after the last swallow and he tossed the empty bottle away. "Out," he muttered. "Probably venting to his soddin' chums." He turned around looking for more alcohol, still feeling the whisky burning his throat. He needed more of that sensation after a long night of chasing plastic plates and beating the living daylights out of a giant vampire.   
  
"Venting about what?" Nesreen started making her way into the crypt.   
  
Spike grimaced when he found an empty bottle of beer and flung it behind him. "Ask him."  
  
Nesreen folded her arms across her chest. "I can spend the next hour analyzing your emotional state."   
  
Spike glared at her over his shoulder. "You're a demon. I can kill you."  
  
She lifted an eyebrow. "Venting about what?" she repeated threateningly.   
  
Spike heaved a frustrated sigh and grabbed another pack of cigarette, returning to the couch. He lounged on the couch and flicked his lighter, bringing the top of his cigarette close and watching the red amber at the end burn hot.   
  
Nesreen cleared her throat and Spike raised uncaring eyes at her. He took in a deep breath and blew a thin wisp of smoke. "Our last piss poor of a date."  
  
Nesreen quirked her lips in amusement. "Dating is so human."   
  
Spike exhaled the smoke from his nostrils, gazing softly at the floor. "It's important to Xander."   
  
There was a short silence between them. Spike watched as his cigarette turned gradually into a long column of ash and yet didn't bother to light another. He was sick of smoking and drinking. He wanted a solution. He wanted to feel Xander's hot body underneath him, wanted to run his hands and mouth all over him, wanted to crush his mouth with a bruising kiss like there was no tomorrow.   
  
"You don't have to do it on human terms," Nesreen suggested quietly, as if she was reading his mind.   
  
Spike grunted. "We tried the cemetery, it didn't work."  
  
"Find a line between what you want and what he wants."   
  
Spike glared at her. "I don't really want your advice." He reached out for the pack of cigarette, but she snatched it before he could touch it. She raised it out of his reach and stared him down. Spike released an irritated sigh. "What do you want?"  
  
She shook her head. "What does  _Xander_  want?"  
  
He pursed his lips into a straight line and looked away with a grimace. "A stinking date."  
  
She tilted her head. "And what do you want?"  
  
"A shag," he spat out with frustration.   
  
She rolled her eyes. "I meant in a date. What do you want?"  
  
"Nothing." He pushed himself to his feet and seized his cigarette pack from her grip. He flicked his lighter and brought the flame to the butt of his cigarette. "Just want to shag him to within an inch of his life," he said with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.   
  
Nesreen took hold of his cigarette and snatched it out of his mouth, flinging it away. She held his chin in a reminiscence of Xander doing the same in the cemetery and forced him to stare into her eyes. "I think you should consider what  _Xander_  really wants and go with that." She let go of him roughly and turned on her heel. She stopped by the door and looked at him over her shoulder. "Or else you'll never be shagged."   
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
  
It was yet another slow and painful night at work that was about to be over. Xander wasn't sure he could take it anymore. His co-workers hadn't tired of bullying him yet, which he could handle if it was just verbal abuse, but they had gone as far as trying to sabotage his career. He touched the wet orange spot on his shirt that was sticking to his chest and remembered Lowie's petrified shriek when he spotted it, as well as the high-pitched orders to stay in the kitchen out of sight. Xander couldn't get out one word in the midst of all that screaming to explain that it was Michael's foot that made him trip and spill all drinks on himself and the costumers who hadn't ordered those drinks.   
  
Still, Lowie's unjust sentence was the worst and cruelest part of the night. He practically locked him in the same room as Dana's replacement, indifferent to the pain and torture it would cause him. The last fifteen minutes passed by like a whole day; he tried to avoid the new chef like the plague, yet his face was the only face he'd frequently come across.   
  
He used his hand to shield his vision until he had to use it to receive another tray with dirty dishes from Sergio. He tried to avoid eye contact with everyone and thankfully managed to get the tray to the dishwasher safely.  _Mission accomplished._  He heaved a relieved sigh and grinned at Carl, whose wrinkly face clenched with a grimace and glared daggers at Xander. "Yeah, you can smile," he gritted his teeth. "You're not the one scrubbing grub off of other people's dishes."  
  
Xander raised a fist in the air. "That's the sprit, Carl."  
  
"Carlos," he snapped, spittle flying out of his mouth, landing on Xander's lips.  
  
Nose crinkled, Xander wiped his lips with disgust. "You got it." He was about to walk away when he stopped himself mid-step before he ran into the new chef.  
  
Xander swallowed heavily, unable to return the smile the man gave him. He lowered his gaze downward and closed his eyes, feeling awkward as the man walked off. His chest ached and his hand clasped his throat, feeling something painfully heavy inside that he couldn't choke down. He knew he needed to get a grip and accept reality before Avanti Ristorante was added to the list of jobs he got kicked out of.   
  
A hand came out of nowhere and grabbed Xander's arm, spinning him around. He was too shocked he hopped back a step and was about to yelp until he recognized the face of the goon.   
  
Spike looked too grim and serious, reminding him of the old chipless days. "Shift is over?"  
  
Xander's hand slid from his throat to his jack-hammering chest. "Yeah."  
  
Spike grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the exit. "Then let's go."  
  
Xander nailed his feet to the floor, almost causing Spike to trip over. "Where?"  
  
Spike looked at him like he grew two giant heads. "Movies."  
  
 _Movies? Did he just say… movies?_  If Xander had two giant heads, then Spike had ten judging by the way Xander was staring at him.  _Since when did Spike go to movies? Since when did that vocabulary enter into his phrase book?_  Xander waited for Spike to laugh and yell a British version of "Syke!" but he looked dead serious it wasn't funny. He pictured Spike with a bowl of popcorn and soda pop and a small laugh burst out of his mouth.  
  
Spike gave him a confused look.   
  
Xander cleared his throat and stifled his laughs. "As lovely as that sounds, I can't." He inclined his head toward his pacing co-workers. "I gotta clean up with the others."  
  
"But the movie is about to start."  
  
Another laugh fled his mouth and he cleared his throat again. "I can't. Look, everybody seems to hate me right now. I can't just leave like that."  
  
"Yes, you can," Lowie's voice rang through rattling and clinking sound of the dishware. He looked so uncharacteristically calm and reserved that Xander wanted to laugh again, but knew better than to do that. "You don't want to miss the movie," Lowie added gently.  
  
Xander bit his lower lip, knowing that if he looked at his boss' ridiculous serene expression any longer, he'd lose it. He looked elsewhere right into the frustrated expressions of Sergio and Mike and suddenly laughter died in his throat. He couldn't leave. He was already despised by everyone who worked at the restaurant and if he left early, he'd be more hated than ever, if that was possible.   
  
"But I'm supposed to help the others in the kitchen," he said quietly, his eyes not leaving the fierce stares.   
  
Lowie followed his line of sight and frowned in disapproval, making Sergio and Mike jump and skedaddle to work. He returned his attention to Xander. "We'll take care of it. Go have fun."  
  
"But…" he said unsurely, but stopped when his gaze went back to Lowie. That was the first time since he worked here that Lowie looked at him with compassionate eyes and an understanding smile. That small glimpse of empathy Lowie had shown in that horrendous night of his and Spike's so-called first date still hadn't registered in his brain, and he had to deal with  _this_?   
  
He shifted weight from one foot to another and put his hands in his pockets, uncertain how to react to Lowie expressing kindness toward him. He directed his nervous gaze to his shoes, watching them rub against each other.   
  
"It must be harder on you than the rest of us."   
  
Xander's head jerked up, his eyes widening as he stared at Lowie in shock. There was a touch of regret in his boss' tender smile, followed by blistering shame as he scratched the back of his neck uneasily.   
  
"Take a break," Lowie added with a sigh. "Enjoy yourself."  
  
A surge of bittersweet warmth rushed through him and he felt a small smile grow. "Thanks."  
  
The sound of Spike's boot tapping the floor grew louder. "Done with the sappy chit-chat?" He took a hold of Xander's hand and started dragging him outside. "Let's go."  
  
"Wait," Xander exclaimed. "I'm not going in my uniform." Spike turned around and Xander pointed at the dry orange spot on his shirt.   
  
Spike scoffed. "I wouldn't have gone with you wearing these fancy pansies anyway." He walked toward a plastic bag that was placed next to the door and brought out his Polo shirt and black slacks. He tossed them at Xander and folded his arms around his chest. "I was shocked to find something decent among that disaster you call a wardrobe."  
  
Xander smirked at him, holding out the shirt. "Buffy bought it for me."  
  
Spike's jaw clenched and he turned on his heel, walking out with a huff. Xander followed him, bursting into real laughter.   
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Spike stuffed his hand in the popcorn bag and threw a handful of popcorn into his mouth. _Tastes tasteless without blood, but can't complain._  A burst of laughter exploded abruptly and Spike almost choked on the popcorn. He touched his ringing ear with a wince when another cackle came from his right.  _Bleeding hell, they won't stop!_    
  
His chair started vibrating and he found his 'date' literally laughing with his whole body trembling with glee. Spike lifted an eyebrow and brought his attention to the screen again.  
  
Blending the fifties, sixties and seventies' most despicable genres in a parody sounded good in theory, but Spike was there when the originals were in their campy glory. He'd suffered through the misery called  _Gidget_  and watching a movie that poked fun at it wasn't his idea of fun. But it was the movie Xander wanted to see, so it was out of his hands. It would have helped if he'd had affection for those movies, he did like those slasher films though, all that blood and gore ought to grip a vampire. Plus, he didn't really like that blonde chit. It was a parody, so bad acting was demanded, but she really took it up a notch.   
  
He took a sip from his Pepsi, enjoying the icy cold liquid trailing down his dry throat and stretched his back. He grimaced when loud laughter attacked him again. Narrowing his eyes, he looked closely at the screen trying to find what got these sods going.   
  
Surfer boy just saved Chicklet from drowning and they were sitting under a rock. She clearly fancied him, and Spike couldn't blame her.   
  
"That Starcat fellow looks shaggable," he commented to Xander, admiring the play of muscles on that tanned skin.   
  
"Really? He kinda looks lame."  
  
Spike glanced at Xander with a smile. There was a little frown between his brows that would usually spark hundreds of insults but right now it just looked adorable. "You'd think that," he said, a little taken back by how good looking Xander was tonight.   
  
The small frown got deeper. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Spike's smile became affectionate and he returned his gaze to the screen.   
  
Now there was that bloke from  _Dharma and Greg_  who spoke in rhymes. He was alone with Chicklet in his little hut, trying to bring her other dominant personality back. Spike glanced at Xander, if only he could bring out his dominant personality. Come to think of it, he didn't know if Xander had a personality like that. Spike never gave him a chance to top, had spoken a lot of badly chosen words to break whatever was left of the boy's self-steam.   
  
 _Could it be?_  Spike bit the inside of his cheek and glanced at Xander again. He was too captivated by the movie to notice. Could Xander delaying sex have had something to do with the way Spike had treated him? Could it be that he'd deliberately ruined every date they'd had to put off sex? Captain Cook never let him top either. No one ever saw him capable of taking control, and Xander knew that. Spike remembered Xander behind the restaurant, head bowed and shoulders slumped after being belittled by his bastard of a boyfriend. It must have hurt like hell being put down constantly. Spike knew that feeling all too well.   
  
He looked back at the screen, finding it difficult to look at Xander right then. He'd never stopped giving the boy the impression that he was below him, never made him believe that they were equals. He wouldn't be able to if he kept believing that himself. Did he want it, though? Xander had been nothing but a means to get laid until he saw him with someone else. Did he consider Xander property? Did he even like Xander as a person? Was Xander nothing but a competition he won over Dana?   
  
"Finally, the idiot figured it out," Xander whispered, unaware of the agonizing thoughts swirling inside Spike's head.   
  
Spike watched as Rhymes found the way to bring the dark mistress back. He started drinking from his Pepsi, wishing it was whiskey instead.   
  
"Mistress Ann, I've been a bad boy," Rhymes said desperately, with a scary pleading grin.   
  
Bad Chicklet eyed him seductively. "And bad boys get spanked. Bad boys get tortured!"  
  
"Cowabunga!" Like a puppy with a bone on Christmas, Rhymes tore off his shirt revealing a black corset underneath.  
  
Spike choked on his drink and a strangled laugh fought its way out of his mouth that mingled with squeals of laughter from the audience. He snorted some Pepsi out of his nose, chuckling and looked at Xander.   
  
The bright smile on Xander's lips made all the anguish inside vanish. Feeling his happiness rising over seeing Xander's smile filled him with so much joy that Spike smiled back and relaxed, finally enjoying the movie.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*

  
  
  
  
The bright light hit Xander's eyes as they walked out of the movie theater to the mall. Squinting, he looked around at the passing people and associated them with the characters in the movie. That dark haired man looked a bit serious, but Xander would bet he was wearing a corset beneath that fancy suit. That ditsy redhead babbling hysterically to her girlfriends would turn into an entirely different person in a snap. And that calm, harmless boy was a psychopathic murderer in disguise.   
  
Xander jumped to the right when the murderer walked past him and slammed against Spike. He received an irritated glare and ducked his head. If he'd mention any of that to Spike, he'd be dumped out on the street. He stared at Tom Cruise' picture in the movie information manual and prayed to be a quarter as cool.   
  
"At first, you looked bored," he said, making Spike look at him. "I was really glad when you started laughing your brains out."   
  
Spike scoffed, snatching the movie manual from him. "I didn't."   
  
Xander lifted amused eyebrows. "Your jaw was totally unhinged."   
  
Spike looked like he was about to object for a second but changed his mind. "It was. Flick was a riot." He flipped through the movie menu in his hand. "I didn't like the ending, though."  
  
"Yeah, that was confusing when she woke up in the hospital."  
  
They walked out of the dazzling lights of the mall into the night where the few streetlamps attempted to lighten the dark streets. Xander watched the cars passing by and envied the lunatics sticking their heads out of the windows, fists in the ear, shouting their lungs out, just being young and careless. Most of them were Xander's age, college boys obviously, having the time of their lives.   
  
His jaw clenched as he remembered that Buffy and Willow were going to a frat party tonight. It was like they graduated to a better high school while Xander graduated into the real world. Alone. He couldn't stop these useless thoughts that danced in his head every once in a while, mostly when he was reminded how different their lives were. He could see the difference in the way everybody looked at him, treated him, and talked to him. He was less. He'd always be less.  
  
"You've got Angel down to a T."  
  
Xander snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Spike. Despite the raised eyebrow, Xander could see a hint of concern in his eyes. The last thing he needed was to fill Spike in on how much of a loser he was, not like Spike didn't know. He forced a smile. "So, what's next?"  
  
Spike grinned. "McDonalds with blood. Ketchup for you."  
  
Petty thoughts were replaced by gleeful excitement. "Sounds perfectly greasy."  
  
"Just the way we like it."  
  
Xander waved a fist in the air in reminisce of the lucky lunatics. "To the butcher's shop!"   
  
He started marching down the steps of the mall, letting himself be happy despite the earlier reflections of the disappointment that was his life. So far his night was great. He'd finally got some recognition of his pain from Lowie and got to watch the funniest movie out this year with Spike. He was finally on a decent date.   
  
Spike grabbed his shoulder all of a sudden. Xander looked back at him and found him staring pointedly at the corner of the street. "Smell that?" he asked.  
  
Xander sniffed the air and grimaced as he caught a whiff of stink. "Smells like shit."   
  
"Smells like Boretz," Spike said, taking a couple of steps forward until he was in front of him.  
  
"You mean the demon of the prolonged research sessions?" Xander asked, wondering if he should run to UC Sunnydale and get Buffy.   
  
"Then it's time to end those pointless sessions."  
  
Xander's eyes widened. "You're gonna kill it by yourself?"  
  
"Of course not." Spike reached for a stake inside his coat and handed it to him. Xander looked once at the stake and back at Spike. The hard blue eyes filled him with prickles of intrigue and he held on to the stake tightly.   
  
At that second, the demon appeared out of the corner, looking as ugly as in the books.   
  
"Go for the knees!" Spike shouted, running straight toward the demon and going for a kick. The Boretz captured his leg easily and flung him against the wall.   
  
Xander didn't waste a second, launching against the demon with the stake, except he felt a powerful grip on his throat and he was lifted off the ground to the Boretz’s mouth. It flashed familiar repulsive teeth at him and Xander drove his stake with all his strength at the teeth, breaking one of them successfully. A horrifying roar broke and Xander found himself falling on his butt.   
  
He heard Spike's loud growl and watched through squinting eyes Spike's fists pounding the living hell out of the demon's head. Xander knew the pounding wasn't enough to stop the demon from slapping Spike away like a bug, let alone finishing it off. Xander struggled to stand on his feet and approached the demon as quietly as possible. Too late; the Boretz knocked Spike away with its elbow and turned around, kicking Xander into the streetlamp. He felt air rush out of his lungs and his eyes bugged out, feeling pain exploding in his back. He collapsed to his knees and horrible sounds came out of his mouth as he tried to breathe.   
  
He closed his eyes and focused, trying to calm himself down and attempting to breathe in and out slowly and steadily.   
  
All attempts to breathe were useless when big fingers gripped his shoulders and hauled him up until they were face to face. Feeling nauseated, he felt his head lulling and his eyes almost slipping shut as the demon leaned closer to poison him with its bite. His arms dangled in the air and his feet brushed against the demon's knees.   
  
 _Knees._  
  
Xander blinked himself awake and with all the power left in him kicked the Boretz' knee. He fell on his butt again, smiling weakly as he watched the demon roar in pain.   
  
Spike jumped at the demon and broke its head with a snap. The Boretz crumpled on the ground, anguished screams dying in its mouth. Xander leaned against the wall, panting heavily and watched Spike kick the demon twice to make sure it was dead. His eyes stinging, Xander couldn't resist closing them and drifting to sleep.   
  
A sharp slap on his cheek stirred him out of his slumber. He glared up in annoyance.   
  
"You all right?" Spike asked with naked concern that wasn't hidden behind insults or raised eyebrows.   
  
That feeling of fear and worry pierced his heart, making him clear his throat in an attempt to hide the real emotions going inside of him. He nodded weakly. "I'll live."  
  
Spike crouched beside him, his fingers brushing on the bruises on his throat. The painful stings were worth it if it meant he could see how much Spike cared about him; see his emotions exposed on the surface instead of being covered with the same old hard façade.   
  
"Some nasty bugger," Spike said, throwing the dead demon a look. He returned his gaze to Xander with an impressed smile. "But you showed it."  
  
Xander swallowed, feeling weird tingles going inside his stomach at Spike's smile. "You killed it," he said.   
  
"Team work," Spike stressed, apparently not wanting to get all the credit, which was a first. Spike leaned back, cracking a few bones in his back. "Slayer should reward us generously for this."  
  
Xander felt a soft smile forming his lips. "She does it every night. She deserves a break."  
  
Spike stopped stretching and looked lost in wistful thoughts for a moment. "Perhaps she does," he whispered, making Xander wonder if there was a body switch at play here because this guy was nothing like the Spike he knew. Since when did Spike understand the pain Buffy went through? Since when did Spike give Xander  _that_  look, the one that made Xander's insides curl.   
  
Spike went back to examining him, searching for a bruise on his head. Xander closed his eyes and leaned against Spike's hand, enjoying the tender touch and show of worry.   
  
"Think we can't have dinner at McDonalds then," Spike said apologetically.   
  
Feeling a heavy weight on his chest, Xander opened his eyes and shook his head dejectedly. "Guess the date is over then, huh?"  
  
Spike lifted his chin and gave him a lopsided smile. "Not bloody likely."   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Xander squeezed more ketchup inside his half eaten burger and took a big delicious bite out of it. The laugh track rose from the TV screen and Xander laughed along with his mouth full, causing Spike to shake his head and took a long pull from his beer. Xander watched him lean back against the couch and stretch his bare legs, dipping a handful of French fries on his blood and pushing them all into his mouth.   
  
Feeling his throat aching, Xander struggled to keep his fingers from scratching it for the tenth time, so he reached for the cream again, pouring a big amount on his hand and covering all the aching bruises with it. The silky rich foam was cool on his skin and soothed the irritation. He released a happy sigh, realizing that his headache was non-existence now, thanks to the power of pain killers.   
  
He voiced a sympathetic "Aww" when Joey handed the  _Little Women_  book to Rachel and then she placed it in the freezer. When the end credits started rolling, he turned to Spike and asked, "So?"  
  
Spike swallowed a piece of his burger and wiped the blood from his lips. "It wasn't bad."  
  
"C'mon, that was funny!"  
  
Spike burped and rested his head back against the couch, closing his eyes in content. He dropped his arms to the floor spreading them out by his sides, his palms facing the ceiling. A surge of relaxation filled Xander as he looked at Spike in that position, wanting to lay next to him and spread his limbs on the floor and fall into a deep sleep.   
  
Spike opened his eyes and smiled when he noticed Xander staring at him. "This was a remarkable night, wasn't it?" he said drowsily.   
  
Xander scratched his nose with a grin. "We watched a movie, slayed a demon, and had dinner in front of the TV without our pants on. Best date ever."  
  
"See? All you needed to have in that large basket was a Boretz demon and that picnic would have been splendid."  
  
"It wasn't supposed to be a picnic." His neck started aching again, so he put more cream on it. It would go on like this all night. He winced when he rubbed on a bruise a little too roughly.   
  
A sympathetic smile formed on Spike's lips. "Too much excitement for one night. I assume you want to rest." With some effort, he pushed himself to his feet and cracked a couple of bones in his back as he walked to his bedroom.   
  
Xander watched him go, fear lurking in his heart at the thought of Spike disappearing under that hole. "Spike," he said a little too desperately, feeling relieved when Spike stopped and looked back at him.  
  
Xander plucked at his boxers, brushing his upper teeth against his lower lip. "I'm getting tired of sleeping on a coffin," he said softly.   
  
Spike looked like he was holding in a smile and gave a careless shrug. "I've got a king sized bed downstairs."  
  
Xander knew he couldn't hold it in any longer, so he smiled first, encouraging Spike to smile back. They stared at each other for a moment before a small laugh burst out of Xander's mouth.   
  
With a leer, Spike moved toward him and held out his hand, his eyes gleamed with lust when Xander allowed him to pull him up to his feet. They stared at each other again, their noses sliding over each other, and Xander felt his breath hitting Spike's skin. Eyes slipping shut, he leaned over and pressed his lips against Spike's. He breathed in Spike's scent, kissing him long and hard, his hands cupping his head, bringing it closer.   
  
The sound of their lips breaking contact caught in the air, and they stared at each other, breathing heavily. "Let's take this to the bedroom," Spike said with a hoarse voice.   
  
Xander nodded breathlessly.   
  
Spike started pulling him toward the bedroom, but stopped midway. "And Xander?" He looked over his shoulder with a meaningful stare. "I've been a very bad boy."  
  
A sly smile played on Xander's lips, he took a couple of steps forward and nibbled Spike's earlobe. "Well, bad boys should be spanked," he whispered to his ear. "Bad boys get tortured."  
  
"Cowabunga," Spike whispered back.   
  
Xander pulled him into another kiss, crashing their lips against each other, and then pushed Spike into the hole. He went down with a loud thud sounding from down the stairs.   
  
"Bloody Cowabunga!" Spike's exclaim was filled with excitement and lust.   
  
"You better have handcuffs down there," Xander called, starting to go down the ladder. "And straps. And nipple clamps."   
  
"How the hell do you know about all of this, you slut?"  
  
"And a ball gag to shut you up, wanker!"   
  
  
 **The End**


End file.
